


Keeping you to Myself

by babyleaf



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Biting, Blindfolds, Blood, Bondage, Choking, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Dom!Spencer, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Gun Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Heavy BDSM, Impact Play, Knifeplay, Mild Blood, Minor Original Character(s), My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Nipple Licking, Not Beta Read, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Prison Spencer Reid, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Punishment, Reader-Insert, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Safewords, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Slow Romance, Smut, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Subdrop, Tags Are Hard, Tags Contain Spoilers, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, criminal minds - Freeform, lots of kinks, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyleaf/pseuds/babyleaf
Summary: A reader insert where you are Spencer Reid's submissive.Takes place after season 12 (post-prison Reid, yk) but before season 13. This story contains lots of smut and should be read by mature audiences. Not a heavily plot-centric story. Reader is a lil freak who likes all things kinky.Y/N used to be a submissive for another dom. At a munch, you are introduced to Spencer Reid, and the two of you strike up a conversation. You both are looking for a new partner. You become his submissive and experience things like never before.-Also, if you have a look at the tags, those are all I’m aiming to explore in this fic, but I’m so open to adding things if you don’t see something there that you would like included in the story!
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 55
Kudos: 173





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is my first Criminal Minds fanfiction and it will be a Spencer x Reader insert. Spencer is a Dom, and Reader will be the sub. This story will heavily contain smut, bdsm, lots of kinks, and graphic material. As such, I'll try to post warnings at the tops of chapters which contain any material that may be triggering. 
> 
> This story will mostly be porn, and takes place after season 12 (but before season 13) of Criminal minds. Plot elements from earlier seasons (up until season 13) will be mentioned, and I will not be posting spoiler warnings in chapters. If this doesn't bother you, you are more than welcome to read, but please read at your own discretion :) Due to this, the story will include the season 12 cast (minus Steven Walker).
> 
> Of course, you are the reader in this story, but a certain amount of character description was needed when writing. Like many other reader inserts, some of Reader's characteristics will be based on my own thoughts/reactions. So, Reader is written in a way that I feel most comfortable and confident, and this means that some of what she does directly corresponds to myself. However, I will do my best to keep physical descriptions to a minimum to give you guys the best experience possible. Also I barely proof read.
> 
> And that's all, I guess. I hope you enjoy this story you kinky mfs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick intro to who Y/N is, and what she does for work and all that.

"Hey! Are you up for drinks tonight?"

Martha came around the corner, carrying a box full of cleaning supplies. You were standing with your back to her, readjusting the trinkets and various glassware along the table.

You worked with Martha at The Gold Key; a small and humble boutique she owned. It sold everything from jewellery, houseware, clothing, and accessories, and today several items had been displaced by customers. The store was too small to comfortably fit all that it had to offer, but Martha insisted it added to its charm.

"I'd love to go with you, but I'm actually going to be busy tonight." You threw her a sympathetic glance.

It wasn't often that the two of you went out together - your schedules hardly lined up. Despite working nearly identical hours, Martha kept pretty busy most nights after the store closed. You supposed that was how she remained so successful. At only 27, Martha had accomplished a lot and did well as a young entrepreneur.

She and you were close. Only 16 months separated the two of you in age, with you being the younger one. You considered her to be one of your only close friends, and you hated to disappoint her since it had been so long since the two of you had gone out last. Martha deserved a fun night out for all of the dedication she put into the store.

"Oh, what're you doing tonight?" 

She gave the slightest smirk as she began to wipe down the counter and cash register.

Your life right now consisted solely of work. Afterwards, you'd go home and cook supper for yourself and eat alone while you watched Netflix. On the nights where you weren't laying low, you did the exact opposite.

You were a part of the BDSM community as a submissive. Sometimes you'd go out to play parties or dates, but it had been a while since you had done either. The last time you had a dom was almost a year ago, and since then you had rarely participated in any activities in the community.

You stopped organizing and turned towards her, lowering your voice so that only she could hear.

"I'm going to a party..." you admitted.

Martha knew exactly what kind of party you were talking about. She knew all about your sex life; you shared everything with her. She was there for you when there wasn't anyone else for you to turn to.

The two of you had met years ago in college as roommates. She was taking business, and you were taking chemistry, just like your mother had. The two of you successfully finished your degrees (you had even gotten your master's) and you were in the process of applying for research positions at hot-shot chemical companies, when your mom had passed away unexpectedly after suffering a stroke.

Your dad was never really in the picture and you doubted if he even knew she had passed. He hadn't kept in touch, or called, or reached out since leaving you and your mom after you had been born.

After her funeral and everything else had been settled, you lacked the motivation to continue a career in research. Instead, you decided to work with Martha where you could be closer to home. Less time would be spent away from friends and family, and your days wouldn't be spent alone in a lab. Your hours were more relaxed, and you were hardly stressed at work. You had time to cook, and read, and enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

Since your mom's death, you had learned the importance of surrounding yourself with the things that made you happy. Life was short, and you had to make sure you made time to live well.

"Shit! Really?" She grinned. "Oh my god, what time?"

You shot her a look that told her to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"It starts at 8, but I'll probably go around 10."

There were two other staff members floating around rearranging other sections of the store, and they both looked your way at Martha's words.

Your other co-workers were nice, but unlike Martha, they had no idea what you did after hours. They were both Georgetown University students, and young ones at that. They wouldn't fully understand your lifestyle, and even if they did, you didn't trust them with that part of your life.

It was nearly 6:30pm - almost a half hour since the store had closed - and the four of you were almost done cleaning. Today had been particularly busy, even for a Friday. It was a sunny July day, and DC was no stranger to tourism.

That was the reason The Key did so well; it was located on a busy street near the university and was always bustling with college students. Tourism season was well on its way and the university drew lots of extra visitors who would stop in for trendy clothing or small home decor that represented the city.

"Well, you came in almost as early as I did, and we're almost done here. The three of us can finish up if you wanna take off." Martha offered.

You had come in at 9:30. Martha was right. You arrived shortly after she did, and your shift had started at 10 that morning.

The other girls, Gwen and Sylvia, had started at 1pm and 3pm. This was typical; they worked in the afternoons on days where they had no classes. Still, you felt guilty at the thought of leaving the three of them while you got to go home.

"You don't mind?" You asked, stalling your movements.

"Not at all. Your shift is over anyway, and like I said, we're almost done." She smiled.

"Okay. Thank you so much!" Your cheeks dimpled, returning her smile.

You made your way over to the small staff room out back, where you kept your things. Gwen called after you before you were out of sight.

"You said you're going to a party?"

_Fuck._ You turned back around to face her, clearing any tell of frustration from your face.

"Um, yeah. It's not really a _party_ party, but yeah."

Images of frat parties filled your head, no doubt the ones Gwen was referring to.

"Oh. Well, have fun!" She responded.

There was a hint of confusion in her tone, but it was barely noticeable. You doubted you would have noticed if you hadn't seen her glance back at Sylvia.

The two of them were kind, but you knew they liked to drink and party. They were both 21 and had the girl-next-door look going for them. Gwen was probably just looking for details on who was having a house party tonight. Either that, or she was shocked you were actually going to a party.

If only she knew what kind of party you were going to.

"Thanks."

Your cheeks flushed as you looked at the younger girls. Quickly turning back around, you headed into the staff room to grab your belongings.

You zipped up your coat and tossed the small backpack that you used as a purse on your shoulders and returned out front.

"I'll see you guys later! Thanks again, Martha." You gave a quick wave before you pushed open the doors to the boutique and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The air was much cooler now than it had been all day. You were grateful that the jacket you settled on taking was one of your warmer options. It was a 20-minute walk back to your apartment, and you threw in some earphones so you could listen to music as you began the walk home.

Thoughts surrounding tonight's munch filled your head. _Who's gonna be there? What should I wear? Is James going to this one?_ It wasn't as if you hadn't gone to one of these events alone before - you had - it was just that it was always more fun and less awkward than if you were going with someone.

James was the last partner you had had. He was a few years older than you and had been a dom for several years when the two of you had met. That was a couple years ago, when you were 24 and he was 32.

The two of you got along well, and there was no doubt he was exceptional as a dom. He had experience, and he was a very attentive partner. Not to mention he was very handsome.

Nothing bad had happened between you, you both had just decided it would be better to end the relationship when you had. James had gotten a new job, and now spent the majority of his time overseas.

He still came home to DC, but when he did, you had extremely short notice and usually couldn't visit him while he was back. So, you ended things on amicable terms before they got too difficult.

If he was back in DC, he probably would have texted you to see if you were also going to this party. It wasn't because he wanted to hook up or was hoping you guys could resume the relationship, it was just that he cared for you and you felt the same way about him.

He was the one who had introduced you to BDSM and he knew you'd feel more comfortable about going to the munch if there was at least one familiar face there.

Just as you arrived on your street, your phone dinged with a new message.

**James W:** Hey, Y/N. There's a party tonight at Veronica's, are you going? I'm back in DC for the next couple of days. I'll be there and if you're going alone, I'd love to see you.

There it was.

So he was going, and by the sounds of it he was single too. Or maybe he had a new sub and wanted to see if you were willing to play together.

Either way, at least there would be someone there that you knew and trusted. These parties were invite only, and the host had to personally approve all of the guests, but still you felt better about going when there was someone there who would look out for you.

Even if you just watched tonight, there was a chance you'd be able to break out of your dry spell and have some fun. James really was a good person, and if you told him you weren't interested, he would respect you.

You walked up the steps to your apartment and headed for the stairwell as you began your reply.

**Y/N:** Hey! Yes I am going, but not until later. Are you going with anyone?

**James W:** I asked if _you_ were going alone. But no, I'm not. Do you need a ride? I can come get you.

**Y/N:** Lol, yes I'll be alone. And that's alright, I'm gonna take the bus. I'm not sure how long I'll stay and I don't want you to rush if you're busy.

**James W:** Alright, I'll see you there. If you change your mind just let me know.

By now, you had reached your floor. You made your way down the hall to your apartment. As you grabbed your keys, your phone buzzed again.

**Martha:** Have fun tonight. Be safe. If you need me I'll have my phone with me. Text me when you're back home so that I know you're safe.

You smiled. Martha really did look out for you. She was one of the kindest people you knew, and a great friend. You sent a quick thanks to James and told Martha that you would be safe and text her after.

It was nearly 7pm now and you were starving. Plugging your phone into an outlet into the kitchen, you put a pan with olive oil on the stove. You cut a few cubes of tofu and chopped up some veggies and added them to the pan. Once they were crispy, you added them to a bed of rice and drizzled some sesame oil over top.

It was around 8 when you got up from the table to start the few dishes that you had created. After that, it was time to get ready for the party. So, you headed to the bathroom to start showering.

Hopefully tonight wouldn't be a waste of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is folks, the first chapter! Nothing too exciting, just an intro to get you familiar with yourself and your life! I promise you the spicy stuff will come later, and there will be lots of it! ;) This is also posted on Wattpad under the same name. My user over there is Babyleaf1. You all have a special place in my heart for taking the time to read my story.


	2. Familiar friends and New Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N goes to the party, and her interest is spiked when she has a heated encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains unprotected sex/penetration, use of a butt plug (not detailed), suspension play, degradation, praise, and spanking. It also gives a brief depiction of mutual masturbation between a same-sex couple, as well as a very brief depiction of oral sex (female receiving).

When you had gotten off the bus, it was only a five-minute walk to Veronica's house. Well, simply calling it a house wasn't entirely accurate. In reality, it was more of a small city-style mansion.

Veronica lived in a wealthy area, and her house was sleek and modern. You had known her ever since being with James.

Sometimes the two of you went to her parties and she was always a perfect host. She had lots of space - several bedrooms, and lots of seating areas for guests to use. She also tolerated zero nonsense, so you (and other guests) trusted her enough to feel comfortable and have a good time.

When you arrived, there were already several cars lining the sides of her driveway. You could see Veronica's silhouette through the frosted glass door. You jogged up the steps and she opened the door to greet you.

"Y/N!" Her eyes crinkled in the corners. "It's great to see you again. I didn't know you were coming but I'm happy you could make it."

"Same here. It's really my pleasure to be invited to these."

"Aw, I'm honoured, really. Come on in, I'll take your coat." She stepped aside and gestured for you to enter.

You gave her your coat, revealing the tiny but high waisted black skirt you had on underneath. Your feet donned sheer black tights, and your signature Hello Kitty Doc Martens. On top, you wore a tight black long sleeve that made your arms look good.

The foyer was one of the brightest rooms in the house. Veronica took your jacket and hung it in a closet that had several other coats inside it. Beyond the foyer, the lights were dimmed to create an ambient environment. You could see many of the guests in the next room, where all the seating and food was laid out, and hear the buzz of chatter and the music.

You thanked Veronica as you walked further into her home. Many of the guests you recognized. There was an equal balance of men and women, both young and old scattered about the room. Some guests wore clothing more revealing than others, but there was no doubt that everyone felt comfortable in their skin.

The dress code at Veronica's was simple - wear what you want; whatever makes you most comfortable. The only rule around clothing was that everyone had to have some form of bottoms on while out in the main room, and reasonably so. There was food and drinks laid out for everyone to help themselves to. Other than that, you were free to wear whatever.

Other rules were that anything that happened had to be consensual for all parties involved, and a closed door meant the people inside wanted privacy.

If you wanted to play with someone, you had to ask, and a "no" meant no. No hurt feelings about it and no pressuring.

As well, guests were expected to clean up after themselves and bring their own toys if they wanted to use any. Everyone at the party had to be invited, but if Veronica had known you a while, and trusted you, you could come and go without an official invite. No minors were permitted, no exceptions.

You headed over to a table that had an assortment of coolers on it. Grabbing your favourite kind, you snapped the lid and then did a scan of the room, slowly wandering around.

You were interrupted by a voice to your left.

"It's good to see you."

James was standing there with a cheeky grin on his face. He had a navy pinstripe suit on over his broad frame. He looked classy, ever the gentleman. His dark hair was gelled back, complementing the squareness of his face.

"James," your tone was surprised, "Hello!"

"How've you been, Doll?"

His English accent put a smile on your face. From the last time you had seen him, his facial hair had grown out and was thicker than you'd seen it before. He was no longer clean shaven, but looked as handsome as ever. His eyes were still the same light blue that resembled the sky on a clear day.

"Good, good. You? You do anything fun tonight?"

You hoped the question wasn't overstepping too far. It was hard not to feel like you were his submissive again in an environment like this.

"Good. You look great, and it's good to see you again. Actually, I did. I can't have another sub right now because of work, but I was able to play a few scenes tonight." he admitted.

You felt better that he didn't seem to mind the question, and it put you at ease.

"Oh, nice."

The air between you felt slightly awkward after that response. Even though the two of you remained friends, it was weird acting so candid in front of each other when you guys had been so intimate together. 

You didn't know what else to say, and you knew there was a mutual feeling of wanting to keep things casual between the two of you. It wasn't on your list to inquire more about what he had been up to, either.

Like always, James seemed to ease the awkward tension out of the conversation by the look in his eyes.

"Well, something came up at work and I've got to go in tomorrow morning to sort things out. I'm actually on my way out now, but I'm happy I got to see you before I had to leave. Take care tonight, Y/N. Cause trouble for 'em." He joked.

It was well known by James that you liked to act bratty from time to time. You loved to be punished; it excited you. There was something to be said about the feeling of strong hands roughly gripping your ass, and the way those hands felt as they delivered spank after spank to your cheeks.

The thought caused a slight flush to creep up on your face, and you chuckled. You could feel yourself growing wet just remembering what kinds of things James used to do when you misbehaved.

"I'll do my best." you joked back. "Have a good night. It was good to see you too, James."

He gave one last smile your way, before he dipped his head to you and bid you goodnight.

As you watched him leave, you could feel eyes on you.

You turned back around, and sure enough, there was a man with his back to the wall and he was watching you, and obviously so.

Your cheeks flushed pink again and you gave him a shy smile. His face wasn't one you'd seen here before, or at any other events for that matter.

He was dressed entirely in black. He was wearing a three-piece suit that fit him well. He was tall, maybe even taller than James who was around six feet, but it was hard to tell from far away. The man looked calm, and well put together.

The only thing that seemed out of place was his hair - it was dark and wild; long enough to reach his chin, and his curls seemed very tousled. Light stubble dusted his cheeks and chin, and the hair on his upper lip was more concentrated than on the rest of his face.

While his hair was messy, it was clear he felt comfortable here, and more so than you. He didn't return the smile you gave him, and you quickly looked away.

Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere else but awkwardly standing alone. You decided to make your way down the hall to see if anything scenes caught your interest.

You felt weird having sex with someone you weren't exclusive with, but it wouldn't hurt to watch, and it would probably ease your nerves. After all, you came to this party for a reason, and now was the time to take in all that it had to offer.

You passed a few doors that were shut before you came across one that had its door wide open. The room was sparsely decorated, save for a few paintings that hung on the walls and a simple four poster bed that was dark and boxy.

The lighting in the room was dim, only being illuminated by a couple lamps that were turned on in the corners. Guests lined three of the room's walls, intently watching the scene playing out before them.

A dresser was pushed against one of the walls near the bed, and its dark colour matched the bed frame. The surface was bare, leaving plenty of room for all of the toys and equipment that had been set out on it.

There were several bundles of what looked to be nylon rope neatly arranged on one side of the dresser. On the other side, there were various dildos and butt plugs. A flogger was nestled between the dildos and a red leather ball gag.

"Yeah? You like that, Whore?"

A very muscled man dressed only in black boxers and a full-coverage black batman-like mask was energetically thrusting into his submissive partner.

She was tied up in red nylon rope, suspended from the connecting beams between the front two posts of the bed. Her body was supine, and her arms were bound behind her back in a placement similar to handcuffs.

She had her legs bound too. Each one was bent and then spread to the side, and then tied to the smooth wooden bed posts. It was like she was on her hands and knees, but inverted, and with her legs spread outwards.

The rope was intricately woven and knotted around her arms and torso in a beautiful criss-cross pattern that left two triangular gaps for her well-rounded and ample breasts. Her head was thrown back, causing her long red hair to dangle. She was whimpering, clearly in bliss.

"Please, Sir!" she cried out, her back was arching, trying to move against the gravity that was holding her body in place.

To your left, in a chair that was positioned in the corner, two nude men in matching black harnesses were curled up together, stroking each other. Both of them were mumbling praises to each other, and you could see precum leaking down one of their hands.

It felt odd standing so close to something so intimate and private, but by far, it wasn't the only sex act that was being carried out.

While most of the guests in this room were watching, there were also other couples who were touching themselves, each other, or giving/receiving oral.

Such was the case for another couple on the opposite side of the room.

A large blonde woman dressed in a shiny PVC outfit had her legs spread wide while she leaned on the wall for support. A younger man, probably 15 years her junior, was eagerly giving her head.

You could see the way her long nails grasped his head and could hear soft moans coming from both of them.

Another loud cry from the woman in rope caused your attention to swivel back to the act in front of you. The lady was twisting her body, her hips jerking with each thrust the man gave her.

"So needy. And so whiny, too. A little slut like you only cums when I tell her she's allowed to."

The woman's whimpering continued. At the man's feet, a small puddle of arousal had pooled, dripping from her thighs and wet centre.

His words, and the sight on the floor caused butterflies in your stomach, and you could feel wetness gather between your own legs.

You could see a sheen of sweat on the man's back. It glistened when he removed one of his hands from her hips and delivered a loud smack to her ass.

She cried out again. This seemed to encourage the man, who gave her another spank, this one even louder.

"Pl- Please," she got out between moans, "I... I'm so close-" Another gasp escaped her lips when he squeezed her cheeks. "-Sir!"

"Just hold on a little longer, baby." He murmured. "You're doing so well for me, taking it so well, sweetheart." He cooed to her.

This was something a lot of people misunderstood about BDSM. It wasn't about the dominant inflicting as much pain as possible on the submissive and getting off on it.

Nor was it a cold and meaningless fuck, where you both used each other and went your separate ways without a care afterwards.

No, it was about trust, and affection, and surrendering yourself to another person, trusting them enough to take care of you afterwards. To take care of _each other,_ afterwards.

"Fuck, you're so tight with that plug up your ass! I'm almost there," he panted.

His words were nearly drowned out by her whimpers. The sound of it made your pussy clench.

It was then that you noticed she was wearing a butt plug. God, it felt so good to be so filled up. You envied her just as much as you enjoyed watching her.

"Alright you little slut. Cum with me, baby."

The sounds of their orgasm filled the room. You squeezed your thighs together, afraid you'd start dripping too. A dull throbbing had begun between your legs.

Once they had climbed down from their high, and the tension in the room returned to normal, several of the guests started to file out.

The man quickly began to untie her, setting her gently on the bed, murmuring words of praise to her.

Then, he started cleaning up the mess they had created. You knew he was about to start the aftercare and so you quickly followed suit and filed out of the room to give them their privacy.

Once out of the room, you headed back to the main room to grab a bottle of water. You found a seat alone at a circular table off to the side of the room. After taking a few long sips of your water, you took a second to calm your beating heart.

For the second time tonight, you felt eyes on you.

Your eyes flickered back to the spot where the tall man had been standing earlier, but you found it empty. Before your eyes could wander elsewhere, a voice interrupted you.

"May I sit?"

Your head whipped around at the sound. You sat up straighter and your eyes widened slightly at the sight of the tall man.

It was difficult to describe his voice. It was soft; soothing. But at the same time it was strong and full of control.

"Um, yeah... sure." You hesitated.

You weren't quite sure if that was the right decision. I mean, of course he was probably fine, he had to be invited here, after all. But you were fairly new to this.

You had been approached by guys before, sure. Whether it was a customer at work, or someone who gave you a wink while you bought coffee, but since parting ways with James, you hadn't really been in the company of another dom.

Not like this, not while you were feeling so needy.

There was no doubt in your head that this man was a dom, too. In _that_ suit, with his chest held up in confidence, the strong shape of his jaw, and the way his dark eyes looked down at you - he was radiating dom energy.

"Thanks."

Despite what you had just thought about him, his voice was still soft.

He moved to take a seat across from you, pulling out the chair and leaning his back into it. You weren't quite sure what to say next.

"What's your name?" He stated.

Although it was literally a question, his tone said differently.

"Y/N..."

Your eyes peered up to look at him while you said it. You were both sitting, but due to his height he wasn't at eye level.

He then did something unexpected. He clasped his hands together, leaning forward, resting his forearms across the table. His face was now much closer to yours.

You couldn't help but look at his hands. They were perfect - large, but lean hands whose veins stretched from his wrists to the bottoms of his fingers. His veins jutted out when he flexed his fingers.

The backs of his hands were void of any hair, making them look smooth and inviting. His fingers were long and skinny, and his nails were cut very short.bHis knuckles were angular, almost bony. They looked strong.

On his left hand, he wore two gold rings. One was on his pinky finger. That one was a thick signet ring that bore an inscription you couldn't make out. The other ring was far more minimal, on his middle finger. It was a simple rectangular band.

 _Holy shit_. You had never seen hands like that before. How badly you wanted to put those fingers in your mouth.

"Hello." He cooed, bringing your attention back to his face.

When your eyes met his, the faintest smirk was painted across his lips. He sat back upright and you immediately felt calmer.

"Are you here alone?" He asked.

That was a question you had heard several times before. But the way he said it wasn't thirsty in the way that question usually was. His voice was low; curious.

Again, you were hesitant to answer. You weren't really _afraid_ , no, that wasn't the right word for it. You just weren't used to the intense feeling this man carried around him.

"So what if I am?"

You regretted your answer as soon as you had spoken it. _Keep it cool, Y/N,_ you chided yourself.

"Sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable." His voice was even softer than it had been before.

And his words were unmistakably genuine, too. Looking back into his eyes, you found traces of guilt there.

"I never said I was uncomfortable."

"I know," he stated, his voice held concern, "but I can tell." His tone became gentle, almost timid now. "I'm Spencer. Thanks for letting me sit."

You nodded back at him, unsure if you could take the tension much longer.

"Actually, the reason I wanted to know if you came alone was because I'm looking for a new sub." He admitted. "And I like you, Y/N; you're my type."

Your stomach flipped at his words. Your name even sounded good on his lips. But you doubted there was anything that _wouldn't_ sound good coming out of Spencer's mouth. He was undoubtedly handsome, and it felt nice to be complimented by someone so earnestly.

You gave him a shy smile. This time he returned it.

"What makes you think I'm a sub?" you challenged.

He chuckled immediately, raising his eyebrows at you.

"Well actually, It's not very difficult to tell," Spencer cleared his throat before continuing.

"Based on your body language during our conversation, it's clear that you naturally submit, whether you're aware of it or not. Your posture changed as soon as I came over. And When I asked to sit, you said yes. When I asked your name, you gave it. I think you like to please."

"Is that so?"

"I certainly think so. You look like a good girl." His voice became low again, and any of the earlier timidness had been replaced with firmness.

He smirked at you again when your lips parted. You had to squeeze your thighs tighter together, and the throbbing in your core was suddenly back.

The way Spencer spoke kept throwing you off guard. While his words were bold, they always lacked arrogance. Instead, you found self-assuredness, and honesty.

"I-" Again, you were at a loss as to how to respond.

Spencer reached across the table, his thumb and index finger lightly holding your chin. After a second, he used his thumb to tilt your chin up so you were looking in his eyes again.

Another second passed before he drew his hand back. Tingles shot through your chin and your heart raced at his touch.

"Will you think about it?" he murmured.

His other hand came up from under the table and dipped into his inner jacket pocket. From it, he produced a fancy pen.

You couldn't help staring as his fingers delicately twirled the cap of the pen until the ball point tip came out. Spencer noticed it too, you were sure, but he didn't comment on it.

He grabbed one of the napkins that was on the table and scribbled out his number and name, before sliding it over to you.

"Please? Can you think about it? We can go for coffee to talk it over. Or lunch. Whatever you feel like. But promise me you'll consider it?"

The look in his eyes made your own eyes soften. "I'll think about it," you reassured him, as you pocketed his number.

As you stood up to leave, you looked at him again. "Hey, Spencer?"

He cocked his head to the side.

"What's your last name?"

"Uh, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid," he pressed his lips into a small smile.

You couldn't make out the look on his face. _Doctor?_ This wasn't really time to mull it over or question him on it. Instead, you held your hand out to him.

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Spencer followed suit and stood up with you. Your earlier assumption had been right - he was tall; at least 6'1. Even from across the table, he towered over your small frame. It took him a second before he held his hand out, grasping yours.

His fingers closed around your whole hand and you could feel small calluses on the palm of his hand. Both of your grips were firm as you shook hands.

"It's nice to meet you, Spencer. I'll think about it," you repeated.

You debated whether you should have called him Dr. Reid, but since he introduced himself as Spencer, it was probably fine.

"I'm looking forward to it, Y/N."

The way he said it made your heart flutter. Indeed, you would think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! This one is quite a bit longer than the first. I expect the following chapters to get longer as the story develops. Now that they've met, I have lots more interesting things to write about! I hope everyone reading takes care of themselves today. Remember, even the smallest thing like saying something nice to yourself counts. You are worth it. Thank you so much for reading.


	3. Decisions, Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer get to know each other a little more

A day had passed since you had met Spencer.

It was now Sunday morning and you still hadn't reached a decision. You promised him you would think about it, and think about it you did. Yesterday you had found your mind wandering back to Spencer's request whenever you weren't focused on something that required your full attention.

Which was a lot.

Your Saturday had been spent cleaning your apartment, watering the plants, cooking, and grocery shopping. You weren't scheduled to work again until Monday, which was a welcome break. At the same time, however, it gave your brain endless opportunities to replay the conversation between you and Spencer.

In theory, it could work. He wanted a sub, and you didn't have a dom. Not only that, but you had found yourself missing the feeling of being in a relationship. You missed being able to put your trust into someone and have them put their trust in you. You missed having someone to confide in. You missed caring for each other. You missed the sex.

Since parting ways with James, it wasn't like you couldn't sleep with someone else if you tried. You were kind, funny. You tended to be a positive thinker. This was something Martha had constantly told you. 

_You're like a bright light when you walk into the room. You make people so happy, Y/N. One can't talk with you and not see how good you are._

You even considered yourself pretty. Not in a shallow way, but gradually, you had found yourself more comfortable and surer of yourself.

You supposed it had a lot to do with who you surrounded yourself with, and a lot to do with your lifestyle. At first glance, one might consider that a submissive partner serves as an ego boost; someone who gives up their control, in a sense, to let their dom do things to them and give them all of the power.

To someone who was unfamiliar with BDSM, this was how it would look.

But really, being a submissive made you feel more powerful than ever. You set the boundaries. You held the safe word. Nothing was done without your consent. Your partner put their trust in you. 

You were the truest and most honest version of yourself in bed. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable, and in that you had found strength. You were the one to give pleasure to your partner. 

Yes, you received a lot of the pleasure too, but in surrendering your control over to a dominant, you knew they derived a great deal of pleasure from this, too.

No matter how beautiful you knew BDSM was, you knew there would always be people who only looked long enough to see it at first glance. They wouldn't see it as anything but sick, deviant role play that glorified abuse or pain. And unfortunately, that was why you were so secretive with this part of your life. The only people who knew about this part of you were others you had met in the community, and Martha.

And right now, you were really glad that you had let Martha in.

-Two days ago-

After leaving the party, you had taken the bus home and texted Martha when you got home safely. She stayed up waiting for you, and asked how everything had gone.

You told her.

You shared your conversation with Spencer, and the two of you had picked it apart. You told her about feeling his stare - twice - and how handsome he was. She was a champ when you gushed about how hot his hands were. But best of all, she helped ease your worries about him.

You see, after spilling everything that had happened between you and Spencer, Martha was hooked on one detail.

He told you he was Dr. Spencer Reid.

To say that Martha became excited was an understatement. You knew she found intelligence attractive. So did you. But after this was revealed, Martha wanted to know everything about the man, starting with what kind of doctor he was. 

You and her each did a FaceBook search, an Instagram search, and a Twitter search, but you came up empty on all counts. Then you tried Google. This time, you were flooded with results.

Countless images of Spencer, along with photos of crime scenes, reporters, and families filled the screen. There were several videos of press conferences, and tonnes of news articles about murders or homicides.

Dr. Spencer Reid worked for the FBI.

You couldn't hide your shock. Before you were able to look at any more photos, Martha had called.

_"Y/N! Are you seeing this? He works for the fucking FBI! Oh my god!"_

You were almost too stunned to respond.

_"What the fuck, Martha? What is this! He's a fed! He doesn't even appear to have a desk job either - he's out in the field! Fuck, Martha! What do I do?"_

It wasn't that you had anything you needed to hide from the FBI, but this was one way to learn you had just met a federal agent. Honestly, you thought this kind of thing, bumping elbows with FBI agents, only happened on TV or in novels.

After that, you both spent the next half hour scrolling through all of the photos, links, and videos there were online. It seemed that Spencer worked as a profiler and aided the bureau in investigation and catching criminals. This shed some light on the way he reacted when you questioned his presumption of you being submissive. He certainly handed you the evidence to support his theory.

While you were still startled, sitting with the idea that Spencer was an FBI agent seemed to settle with you after time.

Obviously, Spencer hadn't mentioned his job at the party. Why would he? You didn't mention yours, and you were sure as hell that that wasn't something you just threw on someone, especially considering the environment you were in and how many potential listeners there were nearby.

Also, you knew first impressions mattered. Spencer likely wanted you to know him as only that - at least at first. That was why he had introduced himself only as Spencer. It wasn't until you had asked for his last name that he had revealed he was a doctor.

So, after talking it through with Martha, you both agreed that it wasn't something to be wary of. Simply put, Spencer wasn't trying to evade you; he just wanted you to see him foremost as another person. Another man. Another partner.

He also didn't want to scare you off before you got a chance to meet him.

After it was well into the early hours of the morning, you and Martha wished each other goodnight. You promised her you'd keep her posted on any updates in your situation.

-

Still lying in your bed, you reached over to check the time on your phone.

10:27am.

With a sigh, you figured it was better to get out of bed and start your day before you became too lazy.

You peeled back your sheets and swung your legs over the side of the bed. Your feet shuffled around before you found your slippers, still in the same spot you had left them. Tugging them on, as well as a housecoat, you unplugged your phone and made your way to the kitchen.

You immediately pressed down the switch on your tea kettle, then went to use the bathroom while the water started heating up. When you were done, you went back to the kitchen and started to fix yourself some breakfast. 

Your oatmeal was done cooking around the same time the water had finished boiling, and you poured yourself a cup of tea. While that steeped, you topped off the oatmeal with some fruit.

Sitting down at the bar table, you mindlessly scrolled through your phone while you ate. It wasn't long after you started that your mind wandered back to Spencer. The amount of time you spent thinking about him was becoming irritating. You had to reach a decision soon, if only to put a stop your continuous analysis of the situation.

Today would be the day. 

You were going to call Spencer Reid and take him up on his offer to talk everything over. After that, you'd know what your decision was.

After you were done breakfast, you cleaned up the dishes and then got ready for the day. Your hair was brushed, your face was washed, and you got dressed in casual clothes. You made your bed, and now you were putting on a natural makeup look.

Before you called Spencer, you were going to run into town to do a few errands that you had missed yesterday. With your boots on, you grabbed a light coat, locked the door behind you, and made your way down the few sets of stairs to the ground floor. Once there, you quickly exited the building and went to the parking lot that was tucked in behind your building.

You had a car, but most of the time, you didn't use it. During the weekdays, when all you had to do was go to and from work, you lived close enough that you could walk. In the winter, or on rainy days, you preferred to drive. You also drove when you had large things to pick up or multiple stops to make.

By the time you made it back to your car after the final errand had been done, it was 1 o'clock. Your stomach had rumbled a few times already, and it was doing it again. You were sitting in the parking lot of a drugstore in the centre of town. What were the chances that Spencer was free to have lunch?

You wanted to know more about him, after all. You pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket and searched your contacts for Spencer's name. After you got home from the party, you plugged his number into your phone. Sadly, the napkin with his number on it wasn't the most accessible way to reach him, unless you wanted to carry that around with you.

Texting someone for the first time was always awkward. Were they going to judge you for using proper grammar or spelling? If you didn't? Did they have the read receipts on? Were they someone who took hours to reply?

All of this was stupid, but you weren't going to pretend that you didn't tend to overanalyze trivial details like these. The fact that Spencer profiled people for a living intimidated you. How much of a profile would he pull from your texts?

You opened your messages and started a new conversation with Spencer.

 **Y/N:** Hey Spencer, this is Y/N from the other night. I'm in town right now just finishing up some errands. Do you want to meet for lunch and talk?

Before you could delete it, you forced yourself to hit the send arrow. You watched as the bar at the top of the screen travelled from left to right. When it reached the end, your message had been delivered.

Not 20 seconds later, you felt your phone vibrate. The name on the screen said Spencer. _Oh fuck._

You unlocked your phone in a hurry.

 **Spencer:** Hey! I'm just finishing up some paperwork, but I'd be able to come meet you afterwards. Is that okay? You name the place.

 **Y/N:** Sure, sounds good. I'll meet you at GreenLeaf?

Oh my god! So this was happening!

You hoped Spencer wouldn't mind your choice of restaurant. The GreenLeaf Cafe was a small eatery; locally owned, and just on the next street over from where you were currently parked. It was also one of the only restaurants in DC that had a variety of vegan options. Their food was always fresh and seasonal, and portions were generous.

 **Spencer:** That sounds perfect. I'll be there in 15 minutes.

Just as soon as you breathed a sigh of relief, you felt a spike of anxiety go through your body. _Jesus, it's only lunch._ No matter how many times you told yourself that, or how much fresh air you got, you couldn't help but feel nervous at the thought of seeing Spencer again. How different would it be to talk in daylight, in public?

It was 1:10. That gave you almost until 1:30 before you would see him again. Because parking out front of GreenLeaf was scarce (and you HAD to parallel park on the street) you made the best choice for everybody by opting to walk to the restaurant. You would rather cut off your own arm than try and parallel park. You hadn't done that since Driver's Ed, and you knew it wouldn't be a good idea to try it out again on a busy street where people could watch.

It would take less than five minutes to walk over, so that gave you ten minutes to pass.

You thought about what would happen after lunch. If you got to know him better and you felt comfortable around him, you were probably going to take him up on his offer. You weren't going to pretend that you hadn't _felt things_ just by looking at him.

But no matter what you felt about him, how would he feel about you? Another pang of anxiety settled in your stomach. What if he thought you were dumb when he really got to know you? He had told you you were his type, whatever that meant. But he barely knew you. Today, he would see the regular you; the person you were most of the time. And what if he regretted his decision?

 _Oh well._ You tried to see the bright side of things. If you didn't feel safe around him, or if he didn't like you, or if anything felt off for _either_ of you, all you had to do was let the other one know. It was easier said than done, sure, but after a meal, this would all be done with no matter how it went. That thought was what was going to get you through it.

You peeked at your phone again.

1:18. It was time to head over.

With one final touch up of your hair in the mirror, you climbed out of the car and locked it. The summer air felt nice on your skin. It wasn't breezy, it was just calm and inviting to be in. Just what you needed.

When you reached the door to the cafe, you smoothed out your clothes in the reflection of the glass. Pulling it open, you stepped inside and looked around. One of the staff members greeted you from behind the counter and you returned the pleasantry.

The cafe was quaint. It had a laid-back atmosphere, and the seating was spaced out far enough to give you a bit of privacy. Today it wasn't very busy. There were only two other tables being used out of the ten or so that were there. Spencer wasn't sitting at either of them. Thankfully, you had beat him here. You Grabbed a small table at the back corner of the room, farthest away from the other guests. It would be easy to spot you from the door when he got here.

As if on cue, the door swung open and Spencer's long frame stepped in.

Instantly you felt better about this whole meeting - he was dressed like you, in casual clothing. Dark slacks and sneakers, and a dress shirt with a dress shirt and burgundy cardigan on top. A watch dangled loosely on his wrist, and his hair was still long and slightly messy. He looked every bit as handsome as he did at Veronica's, but now less intimidating.

When Spencer's eyes found yours, you smiled and waved. The grin he gave you in return lit up his face as he strode over to your table.

"Hi." You tried to sound cheerful through the nerves.

"Hey! It's great to see you again, Y/N. I'm really glad you texted." His words were full of sincerity.

He pulled out a chair and took the seat across from you.

"Thanks! It's good to see you too!" You smiled

"I've, uh, never been here before."

"Oh, they're great! I've never not enjoyed my order, and they have a tonne of options." You pushed the laminated menu towards him from where it rested in the centre of the table.

"Here. You go ahead. I already know what I want to get."

"Thanks!" You watched as he skimmed both sides of the menu. "You're right, there's a lot to choose from... What do you recommend?"

"Uhhh, well, I don't know if you'd like what I've ordered in the past, but I think the soba noodles or the vegan miso soup are both really good."

You tried to gauge his reaction but couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"So I take it, then, that you're vegan? Or at the very least, vegetarian? I'm only asking because these two dishes are each specially marked in the menu."

You hated that you felt this way, but it was hard for you to tell people you were vegan because of how they reacted. Most people either pressed you on your reasons for going vegan and then tried to dispel your beliefs, or they rambled on about how they could never be vegan themselves. It was frustrating, and it made you feel scrutinized past the point of comfort.

"Yeah, I've been vegan for a few years now." As you finished the sentence your eyes retreated away from his face to the bare tabletop in front of you, preparing yourself for what he might say. Spencer noticed.

"No, Y/N, I think that's great! I have a large amount of respect for anyone who has a passion about something and is willing to stand behind it and make a difference. You know, the CDC actually did a study on the American diet this year and found that the average American was lacking nearly 90 percent of the vegetables recommended per day as set out by Dietary Guidelines for Americans. And their research also shows that a diet rich in fruits and vegetables reduces risk of cardiovascular disease, stroke, and various types of cancers. Also, I once read a 2015 study on the effects of the Western diet in adults, and they found that participants who lacked nutrient-rich foods experienced a decline in hippocampal volume. So their hippocampus - that's the part of the brain that regulates memory and learning, among other functions - actually had shrunk in si-"

Spencer broke off as the waitress approached our table.

"How are you guys doing? You all set to order?"

You and Spencer exchanged nods. The waitress, Alisha, looked at you.

"I'll have the veggie panini, please, and a water."

Alisha turned to look at Spencer.

"Could I get the soba noodles? And a coffee too, please."

"Sure can. Thanks guys! It shouldn't be too long." You and Spencer thanked her while she set down some silverware for us, and then she turned and headed to check on the other tables.

"You seem to know a lot about research."

It was astonishing just how much Spencer had known about food related studies. I mean, not even you were _that_ well-versed in the science of nutrition, and you were some who was pretty keen on healthy eating.

"I read a lot in my spare time. Mostly books, but I also read journal articles about all kinds of research, too."

He picked up his wrapped silverware and twirled it with his thumb until it reached his fingertips, and then let it slide back to his palm before he repeated the motion. He was wearing the same two rings as he had earlier. You told yourself not to stare, but it was hard to focus on anything else.

"Wow, where do you find all the time?"

"I have an eidetic memory, and can read 20 000 words per minute, so It doesn't really take much time." He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Woah, really? That's amazing!"

"Thanks." His eyes searched my face. "You know, you always seem to be watching my hands."

Spencer lifted his brows as he watched your reaction. You blew out your nose in a quick half-laugh as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"Sorry. You just have nice hands, that's all."

"Do I?" he murmured. A smirk danced across his lips quickly, and then it was gone.

His little smirk made your belly flip-flop.

"Yeah. I like them, anyways." Another small blush painted your cheeks. You made your voice quiet. "Hey, Spencer, what did you mean last time, when you said I was your type?"

He lowered his voice to match yours. "I just... meant that I was interested, I guess. I've been a dom for three years now, and I think I could have a lot of fun with you. I guess I don't really have a 'type', but you're very beautiful, Y/N, and you aren't like the subs I've had in the past."

"Aren't like them how?"

"Just physically, I guess. You're a lot smaller than anyone I've been with, and that could be fun. I can think of a lot of things I'd like to try."

His words made your heart flutter. You grinned at him.

"Yeah? So how many subs have you had? and what got you into the community?"

"Only two; I spent about a year with each of them. We didn't see each other romantically. It was exclusively BDSM experimentation. My last sub was married, actually. Her husband knew what we were doing, of course, but we ended things when they decided they wanted to try and start a family, that's all," he swallowed before continuing. 

"And as for the other thing, I just wanted to find a way to deal with stress. Experiment more, that sort of thing. I was in a rough spot, for a while, and I found that playing has helped take my mind off things."

You nodded. It was relatable - that was how you felt, too.

"So, what about you? How long have you been a sub?" He asked.

"Um, just a year. I've only been with one partner, and he was the one to introduce me to the lifestyle. But we parted ways around a year ago, and I haven't really been with anyone in that way since."

Just then, Alisha came out from the kitchen carrying two plates and your drinks. She set them down in front of you and Spencer and told you to give her a shout if you needed anything. Once she was out of earshot, you spoke again.

"Spencer, I still wanna work out the details of this, and continue talking about it, but I think this is something I want to do with you."

His mouth dropped open before it broke out into an excited grin.

"Seriously? I mean, of course we'll talk out everything before we do anything together, but you've decided, then?"

"Yeah, I think so." You returned his grin with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. It was going to be exciting, seeing what those hands could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, a longass chapter and the only spice in it came from ur panini :( BUT now that this is set into motion, I promise the good stuff's coming soon. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and that it wasn't too dull. Also, please understand that the only purpose of making Y/N vegan was because I (being vegan myself) felt weird making Y/N not vegan. This won't be brought up every chapter, nor is it relevant to the storyline of this fic, but... it exists, at least in this chapter. And if anyone got the Twilight reference in the title, thank you, you're great. If you didn't get the reference, YOU'RE STILL GREAT! I love each and every single one of you. Thanks for making it this far.


	4. The Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Y/N talk about their expectations for the relationship, and they go over plenty of BDSMish things!

Lunch with Spencer passed smoothly. Spencer agreed that the noodles were delicious, and he even commented that he'd come back again to try the other dishes on the menu.

The two of you spent the meal familiarizing yourselves with each other. You learned that Spencer was a genius; his IQ was 187, higher than Hawking's _and_ Einstein's. Despite this, Spencer was humble about it all. In fact, he hadn't even tried to mention it. It only slipped out of his lips when you asked for more details about his super-fast reading skills.

You also learned that he was a Las Vegas native, and grew up an only child. Though beyond that, he hadn't wanted share much more about his family, and you hadn't pressed him on it.

This was understandable - after all, it was only the second time you had had a conversation together. And moreover, you didn't really want to comment on your own childhood, either. It wasn't horrible but spouting out your own depressing childhood on a Sunday afternoon in a little cafe wasn't really ideal. Especially not when you were both warming up to each other.

Besides - you knew your daddy issues and all their glory would become obvious soon enough.

When Spencer asked about your work, things got a little awkward. You told him about The Key, your friend Martha, and how you enjoyed it there, but then the polite thing was to return the question. It would have been silly to ask about his job and pretend like you didn't already know. So, when he told you he worked for the Bureau, you sheepishly admitted that you already knew.

But thankfully, it didn't seem to upset Spencer in the way you thought it would have.

When you shared that after your encounter, upon learning he held the title 'Doctor', you were simply curious about what kind of doctor he was. And you used the internet to find out more. It seemed like a wise choice to leave Martha out of this, for now at least. So, you told him that you had Googled him, but instead of being met with links to clinics or hospitals, you were greeted by images of the FBI hard at work.

Spencer almost seemed embarrassed when you told him. Shit, _you_ were the only one that should have been embarrassed, but somehow, the thought of you seeing him like that made him uncomfortable.

You tried to apologize for making him feel awkward, but he waved you off. Instead, he explained that it wasn't the way he wanted to tell you. And it only made him feel uncomfortable because of the fact that his face, and several other pictures of him, were out there for the world to see. This was when you learned that he hated most modern technology.

This also showed you that Spencer was a graceful man. After all of the awkwardness surrounding the discussion of his job, Spencer turned the conversation around to answer the question that had started this mess.

He told you that he held not one, but three PhDs in mathematics, engineering, and chemistry. Even more, he had earned three BAs too.

When the conversation shifted to your education, you told him about receiving your master's degree in chemistry. This was a big deal for you; it wasn't often you shared your achievements with someone so casually like this. It often led to questions about why you were so smart but working a job so completely unrelated to your degree. You didn't like this, and you sure as hell didn't like explaining how you ended up this way.

But yet again, Spencer surprised you.

Instead, his face lit up and he joyously began discussing your degree with you. You assumed it was because it wasn't often that he got to talk about the things he was interested in; not with someone else who shared the knowledge and passion to keep up with him. He guest-lectured at Georgetown on occasion, and that gave him a chance to share his love of science, but teaching wasn't the same as real conversation.

After you were done eating, you and Spencer agreed to meet again tomorrow night. This would be when you discussed the ins-and-outs of your relationship. You texted him your address, and he was going to come over after you both finished work.

Now that you were home, you decided to prepare for Spencer's company tomorrow. You had to be up early for work, so now was the best chance you'd have at making sure your space was clean before he came over.

There wasn't much to do besides straighten out the small living room and pick up a few things that were haphazardly placed around your kitchen.

Your bedroom, however, was another story. Although it hadn't been implicitly talked about, you supposed that nothing serious was _actually_ going to happen tomorrow night. Tomorrow was about discussing each other's limits and kinks; the things you wanted to do or experiment on.

But you couldn't help yourself from paying a little extra attention to your bedroom. You were pretty organized anyway, but it wasn't going to hurt for you to make sure it looked, at the very least, presentable.

While tidying up your closet, your eyes settled on the bin where you kept most of your toys. Undoubtedly, you and Spencer would someday use them.

You reached up to grab the bin and set the lid aside. Most of the things in here you forgot that you even had - all of the toys you used most frequently you kept in a drawer in your nightstand.

The first thing you saw was an old vibrator wand. Why you still had it, you weren't sure. Rummaging further, though, you found a couple different types of lube and massage oil, a dildo, a blindfold set, another dildo, and a little pink harness that looked cute but was a bitch to put on.

Well, at least now you knew what was in there and there wouldn't be any surprises should you and Spencer go through it. Sighing, you placed the lid back on top and shoved the box back where it came from. You figured an early night would be best, and there wasn't much else to do besides shower and get ready for bed.

You brought your good body wash to the shower, along with your regular soap and wash cloth and turned the water as hot as you could stand it. After peeling off your clothes and hanging your towel on the hook, you reached your arm into the spray of the water to test it.

The warm water was instantly inviting, and you stepped into the shower so that the hot spray hit your back. After you finished shampooing, you shaved your legs and armpits while the conditioner was setting. Once you were done, you let it rinse out. You used the body wash to rinse off any conditioner that was left on your body and rubbed your hands over your legs feeling for any missed spots.

When you were satisfied that your legs were smooth, you hopped out of the shower and began your nightly routine.

By the time that was done, your hair wasn't nearly as wet, and you decided to blow dry the rest until it was just shy of dry. Then, you slipped on comfy pjs and sat in bed scrolling through your phone until you got bored.

It was dark enough now that it wouldn't be too hard to fall asleep, so you tucked yourself beneath the comforter and curled up on your side. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

Work had been uneventful so far. Only you and Martha were there, which was great because it gave you a change to fill her in on your afternoon with Spencer when there weren't too many customers that needed attention.

The downside was that it felt like it was dragging on, even though there was only an hour until you closed. All the cleaning was done, and while Martha was working the register, you were out back organizing some of the new items that were soon to be on the shelf.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

 **Spencer:** We're still good for tonight, right?

God, your shift had to end so you could see him.

 **Y/N:** Yes! Just text me when you're done work or on your way

 **Spencer:** Great, will do. I'll probably be done around 7 and I'll see you shortly afterwards.

Another hour and you were free to go.

When you were done out back, there was only 15 minutes left until you were free to go. You helped Martha pick up the last of the items that had been misplaced and before you knew it, you were free to go home.

It was almost 6:30 when you arrived home, and that gave you just enough time to make yourself a quick meal.

While you were cleaning up the kitchen once more, you got another text.

 **Spencer:** Leaving work now, see you in 20.

 **Y/N:** Alright, see you soon

With that, you ran to your bedroom to put on a better shirt than the one you wore to work and touched up the makeup under your eyes.

You flipped on the TV as you waited for Spencer, but your mind was too busy to actually watch what was playing. Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

You froze momentarily before getting up and pacing yourself as you raced to the door. Swinging it open, Spencer stood there with a dimpled smile and his satchel on his shoulder. He was dressed in formal clothes, similar to the ones he had on Sunday.

"Hey, Spencer! You found the place okay?"

"Yeah, I did," he answered while you let him inside. "Actually, I know all of the roads in DC, so it wasn't any trouble at all."

You grinned at his response. Of course he knew _all_ of the roads in DC.

"Did you eat yet? I had supper after work, but I can get a snack for us if you're hungry," you offered.

Spencer hesitated. "Only if you want a snack, too"

"Yeah, of course," you led him into the kitchen and grabbed a couple glasses from the cabinet. "Can I get you anything to drink?'

"Just water'd be nice, thanks."

You filled two glasses with water and handed him one while you grabbed a few of the snack-y foods from your cupboards. You arranged a plate with a variety of options, and then filled a small bowl with salsa. You also filled a bowl with tortilla chips and Spencer helped you carry everything over to the table in your living room.

"So," you said to him as the two of you sat on the couch, "where do you want to start?"

"Um, first let's just go over the big picture," he told you while grabbing a handful of chips.

"Like relationship stuff, you mean?"

"Yeah, exactly. You're not new to this, and neither am I, but I'm curious as to what kind of boundaries you're used to."

"Well, between James and I, our relationship was strictly for the purposes of exploring BDSM with each other."

You watched his face but couldn't read his expression.

Spencer nodded at you, "Okay, that's good. I want you to know that this kind of relationship is all I can really handle right now. Between work and other things, I want to be clear that that's where the boundaries stand for me."

You guessed as much. But you were good at separating your regular life from this life and knew it wouldn't be an issue for you to keep your feelings out of it.

"Yeah, Spencer I totally get it. In fact, I kind of had the same expectations."

Your words seemed to make him more comfortable.

"And I'm also curious about your schedule. As you can probably tell, my work schedule isn't really structured; we almost never know how things will go until they happen and I spend a lot of time out of state," he frowned. "But every so often the team gets a mandatory two days off after a case, and as for the foreseeable future, I get a month off for every three months I'm at work."

Spencer clasped his fingers together and then unclasped them and looked over at you. A grimace passed over his features before it was gone. A month off sounded appealing given what Spencer did for a living, but judging by his reaction, he didn't feel the same way.

"That's about the only time I can guarantee I'll be away from work, but other than that, most evenings I'm available, albeit it's usually pretty late when I finish work." His eyes met yours with an apologetic glance.

"No, Spencer, that's totally fine with me. Going into this I knew your schedule was a bit unpredictable. But, as for my schedule... it's pretty dependable. I usually work 5 days a week, and I'm always off by 6, if not earlier than that. The store's closed on Sundays, and that's a guaranteed day off for me. As for the weekdays, there's usually one day where I'm not scheduled, or I have a shorter shift. So really, any of the times I just mentioned are good days for me, but I think it's more up to your schedule than mine."

"I can work with that, then." Satisfaction shown in his eyes.

"Perfect. Do you want to go over limits next?"

"Not yet. I want to set some ground rules before we get into that. I'm not sure about your friends, but my friends don't have any inclination that I'm into BDSM, and because of that, I expect us to keep this part of my life private, at least on my side of things."

"Of course, that's fine with me. There's one friend of mine who knows about my lifestyle, but she's completely supportive of it, and I know I can trust her. And that's the only person I'd ever talk about this with, but if you're uncomfortable with that, I can leave the details out of it."

You hated the thought of keeping Martha in the dark, but if Spencer wasn't all right with her knowing more about your relationship beyond what she already knew, you supposed you could leave Spencer out of it.

"No, Y/N, that's not- I don't want that for you. If you trust her, and want to talk about our arrangement with her, please do. I don't want to stand in the way of your friendship. But, on my end of things, I want to keep this between us, that's all." He explained.

Your face brightened. "You have my word," you promised.

"Also, when we're playing, I expect you to call me Sir. Doctor works too, if you'd prefer."

"Will do, Sir," you teased, wanting to see his reaction.

Spencer's eyes darkened before he clenched his jaw. You giggled.

"When we're playing." He repeated, but you could tell that he wasn't mad.

You nodded, letting him know you understood.

"And now safe words. Do you have any that you like using?"

"I've used the colour system, so I guess I'm used to that. Is there something else you'd rather? Whatever works for you is fine with me."

No, that's great. That's what I'm used to using as well. Red means...?" He raised an eyebrow at you, testing you.

"Red to stop the scene," you told him. "Yellow means that I'm close to my limit, or I want you to stop what you're currently doing, but the scene continues. Green for go. Or, as confirmation that I'm alright or enjoying myself."

Spencer reached over at you to cup the side of your face. "Good girl," he praised lowly, and you leaned into his touch. And then just as quickly he withdrew his hand.

Your stomach fluttered and you knew Spencer was aware of the effect he had on you.

"Now we can go over limits. Is there anywhere you don't want me to touch you?"

"No."

"Any part of my body that you don't want me to touch you with?"

"No."

"Are you comfortable with oral? Both giving and receiving."

"Yes," you nodded once.

"Including analingus?"

Your eyes widened at his choice of words. "If you're talking about rimming, then yes to receiving. I've never given it before, though. But I'll tentatively say yes to that too."

"Alright. And penetration? Both anally and vaginally.

"Both are fine."

"Use of toys? Whether you're using them on yourself in front of me, or I'm using them on you."

You nodded, smirking. "Yes, that's fine."

"Do you have any objections to bondage, blindfolding, rope play, or suspension play?"

"No to the first three. I've never experienced suspension play, but I've seen it." You thought back to that scene at the party. "I'd definitely try it, though."

"Noted. Can you tell me your hard limits?"

"Any sort of water sports, or fecal play is off the table. As well as playing with food. I also don't want to do any role play involving consensual 'non-con'. Um, and while I'm at it, my soft limits are nipple clamps, knife or gun play, and ice play. And I'd define my soft limits as things I'd only be interested in doing with explicit discussion or guidelines beforehand."

Spencer nodded, "Got it. Now, is there anything you know you _want_ to do? Or things that you like that you want me to know about?"

You chuckled lightly. "You wanna know my kinks? It's a nice little list."

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I'd love to know what turns you on."

A blush crept up your cheeks as you thought about your answers. Spencer waited, stroking one palm along the other slowly. You stared at his hands with a pointed look. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Well, I think you and I both know that I have a thing for hands," you said to him.

Spencer stopped his movements and gave you a knowing stare.

"All hands?"

"No, only men's hands, I guess. If they have long fingers, or are veiny. If they look... pretty."

That only seemed to please Spencer more.

"What else?"

"I like spit; yours or mine. I'm happy to be spit on, or to spit on someone else. I don't know, but it turns me on. I'm a fan of spanking, choking, degradation. I love degradation, actually. I also... have a thing for creampies, but I don't know whether to consider that an impregnation kink or not," you mumbled.

"Hey, look at me." He ordered. His tone was firm, but his eyes weren't. "Please don't get shy with me. That's what this is all about; sharing these things with each other so we know what we like," he said softly.

You relaxed at his words. "You're right, sorry. I just don't know how to not feel weird talking about it with someone so new."

"You don't have to apologize, I get it. Completely. But I do want you to know that I'd never judge you for any of the things you like."

"Thank you, same to you. I mean it," you gave him an earnest look. Spencer smiled back at you in thanks.

"Is there anything else?"

"No," you lied.

By the way Spencer cocked his head to the side he could tell you were lying.

"What is it, Y/N?"

You felt another blush crawl up your cheeks. Shaking your head at him, looked down at the nearly empty plate of food.

"Y/N," he persisted, "What did I just say? You know as well as I do that this won't work if we don't communicate. Whatever you're not saying, just tell me," he requested.

You felt an uneasiness spread through you. Was there a more awkward way to phrase this?

"I just- I like using the word daddy."

Spencer's eyes met yours and he brushed a hand over his chin, running a finger over his lips.

"Yeah?"

Again, his expression was hard to read, but his tone showed no hint of judgement, just like he promised.

"In reality, a daddy kink is quite common, it's nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, many people, both men and women get off on it. And despite the way society portrays it, it has nothing to do with having 'daddy issues'. In my opinion, it's really the same kind of thing as using 'Sir' in the bedroom. I won't stop you from calling me that, if you choose to. Nor will it bother me, Y/N."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do."

A silence fell between you for a few seconds before Spencer broke it.

"There's a couple more things I want to go over, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"These two kind of go hand in hand, and I'm sure you're familiar with this kind of rule, but I also would expect our relationship to be exclusive - just you and I. No partners on the side. While we're doing this, you belong to _me,_ and me only, alright?"

 _Fuck_ , you really did miss hearing things like that. You couldn't hide the effect his words had on you.

"Of course," you purred, allowing him to see how much you liked the thought of that.

"Good. And on the same page, when was the last time you got tested? I get tested every few months, and I'm clean. I haven't been with anyone since I last got tested."

"I'm clean too. I got tested a few days before the party."

"Good." He ran his thumb across his lips before he spoke again. "Let's talk about what kind of punishments are okay."

A small bubble of excitement bloomed in your chest. Most of the time you behaved, but when you wanted to act out, you looked forward to getting punished.

"We can say yes to spanking, although I'm not sure how much of a punishment that would be for you, yet. There's also edging and orgasm denial."

"Those are all okay," you assured him.

"How do you feel about forniphilia?"

That was new.

"I'm sorry?"

"Human furniture," he clarified.

Oh.

"Um, I've never done that before. But I love trying new things, and I think I'd enjoy that."

This pleased him, judging by the way he shifted in his seat.

"And what about if humiliated you? Made you crawl around naked or eat off the floor. We'd be at home, by the way."

Jesus christ. That definitely sounded like a good idea.

"Yes," you answered immediately. Spencer hummed contentedly.

"Good to know," he mused. "Shit, I can't wait to play with you."

You pressed your thighs into the sofa, trying to keep your face calm. Like a hawk, Spencer watched you.

"You're so needy already, and I haven't even done anything to you."

You weren't sure what to say, so you kept your eyes down on the floor.

"Don't worry, I enjoy seeing the effect I have on you, Bambi. The last thing I want to talk about is aftercare." His voice became much gentler as he continued. "I just want you to know that I take it seriously. No matter what we do, I want you to know that you can trust me to take care of you afterwards, even if things get really heated. I will _always_ be here to help you, and I need you to understand that."

"Thanks, Spencer, that's really sweet of you."

That was literally his job, but it still felt nice to hear him tell you all the same.

"I'm serious; if you feel yourself dropping, or you ever feel upset afterwards, come to me. It's my job to make sure you're okay, and I just want you to know that I'll be here to help you through it. Do you have a lot of experience dropping?"

Thinking back to some of the times you played with James, there were a few instances that came to mind.

"I've dropped before, sure, but usually only after really after intense scenes."

"Alright. Well, should you start to drop, I'll be here. And if I can't be there with you, say you start to feel low the next day, please just call me."

"I will," you promised.

After that the bulk of your conversation was over. Spencer stayed to help bring the dishes to the sink, and the two of you chatted about the upcoming week, sorting out when would be a good time to actually begin playing. You stood by the door while he put his blazer back on.

"Wednesday, then?" He did up the button on his jacket and collected his bag from beside the door.

"Looking forward to it," you grinned up at him.

"Absolutely my pleasure, Y/N. I'll see you then?"

"Deal," you announced, as you showed him out.

You watched Spencer's back as he made his way down the hall. Before he turned down the staircase, he glanced back at you, licking his lips, with a hungry look on his face.

And then he disappeared from your sight.

A small laugh tumbled out of your mouth, teeming with excitement. The rest of the night you felt as if you were in a daze. This was really going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter you can expect things to get real! Believe me, I have been waiting to get to this part. I hope all of you find something today that makes you smile. Love babyleaf.


	5. Playdate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly smut. Y/N and Spencer play their first scene together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I had hoped to get you this chapter earlier in the day, but it's now late Thursday night for me. Fun fact, I spent about 6 hours in a tattoo chair today and I'm so tired, but I'm anxious to get this one out for you! Your sweet messages keep me going. This chapter is also so much longer than I anticipated but that's not a bad thing for you guys! 
> 
> Warnings: This chapter is explicit! There will be oral sex (female receiving), thigh riding, degradation, and edging. Spit kink/daddy kink/praise kink/hand kink are all activated in this one.

Much of Tuesday passed by in a blur. You remembered waking up, going to work, and struggling to fall asleep in anticipation for your meet up with Spencer.

Perhaps the only important part of the day was when you got to spill about your night with Spencer to Martha. It made you somewhat sad, sharing that bit of intimate information with her, knowing that there didn't seem to be anyone Spencer was doing the same with. It also made you feel slightly guilty, even though he insisted that it was important for you not to have to hide anything from your friend if you didn't want to, regardless of what he chose to do.

And you supposed he was right. It wouldn't be fair to ask the other person to keep complete secrecy about a relationship if they didn't want to or weren't okay with it.

Moreover, it was healthy for you to have someone else know about your relationship besides the person who was directly involved. That way you had a fresh set of eyes to see things that you were too close to see for yourself. You also had someone that could act as a sounding board for you.

All matters aside, though, Martha was your rock and you wouldn't want a world where she could only know about half of you.

And then finally, Wednesday had arrived.

It was currently 4pm and you suspected that you wouldn't be hearing from Spencer until another few hours at least, so you had time to kill.

Spencer had texted you his address and you were going to his apartment for the first time this evening, and the thought excited you just as much as it intimidated you. Spencer seemed responsible and knowledgeable, and you had felt like you could trust him every bit more since you guys went over your terms, but the thought of spending the night with him and _actually_ playing was making you a little nervous.

It was just... what would he think of you when he saw all of you? The wild side of you, for lack of a better word.

He seemed to like the brief snippets he got. _Fuck,_ he even told you he did.

_I can't wait to play with you._

That was what you kept repeating to yourself. If he could be that blunt with you, that upfront about his desires, then there really shouldn't be anything to fear. He was already into to you, and you hadn't even tried. You were just simply being yourself, and it was working so far, and that was what this relationship had to be built on.

And then after that, he told you that he enjoyed watching you. That, in and of itself was rewarding. It made you feel good; more confident.

And then he had called you Bambi.

Now _that_ should have been enough to completely wash your anxiety away.

 _Bambi_. No one had ever called you that before, and you liked the way it made you feel. Your heart beat faster as you thought about it, just as it had the other night. But despite this, there was still a small kernel of doubt hidden deep inside your chest that wondered if Spencer would change his mind once he saw more of you.

Even though you had some self-doubt about letting yourself go with Spencer, there was no way of knowing what would happen unless you saw it yourself. This little thought challenged you - it was like a dare.

_Go and see what he's capable of. Go and see what you're capable of._

It was a small push to ignore the feelings of worry. If you could just be yourself, you had nothing to worry about. If the pattern continued, tonight would be about putting your trust into someone and earning all of its benefits.

You decided to eat dinner early to give it a chance to settle before playing. Although you had time, you didn't want to cook something right now and decided on leftovers.

After eating, you jumped in the shower and repeated the same routine you had done before Spencer had come over to your place. The feeling of the soap and hot water on your skin made you feel refreshed and energized.

Once you were out, you massaged body lotion all over yourself and as that soaked in, you wandered to your closet to figure out what to wear. Spencer hadn't told you to wear anything specific, or really given you any hint at all as to what you would be doing, so you opting to keep it fairly casual.

You chose a matching sage bra and panty set. The fabric was made of dainty, floral lace. The panties weren't quite thong-cut, but they were cheeky enough to be considered flirty. The bra clasped in the front, joining two plunging, flimsy cups.

You felt sexy, and that was what was most important.

After dressing, you headed back into the bathroom to dry the rest of your hair and put on a thin face of makeup. It was nearly 6:00 by this point and you were about to watch TV when your phone rang. The name on the screen told you it was Spencer. Sliding your thumb over the screen, you quickly brought the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N? It's Spencer," his voice was quiet. "We're all finishing up earlier than expected over here. I know it's short notice, but would you be able to come to my place within the next little while instead of later? It's all right if you can't, I just thought I'd let you know that option's out there."

"No, actually that works fine for me." Re _ally fine._ At least now you wouldn't have to find ways to pass the time. "I'm good to come whenever. Are you about to leave work, then?"

Spencer didn't respond right away. There was some commotion going on in the background. You were about to make sure he was still on the line when he finally spoke.

"Perfect. Sorry about that, it's just- I'm trying not to..." His voice trailed off.

"Coworkers?" You guessed.

"Exactly. And I'll be leaving here in the next five or so. Does 6:30 work for you? I know you have my address, but I can swing around to get you and take you to my place instead, if you'd like."

You didn't want to offend him - his offer was really nice - but right now you needed to drive over alone to settle your nerves.

"Oh. Thanks so much, Spencer, but I think I'll meet you at your place instead, if that's okay. I just wanna clear my head, that's all." You hoped that he didn't take it the wrong way.

"Don't worry about it, really. I appreciate the honesty, actually. And I want you to do what makes you comfortable, especially tonight..." You heard a door close. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Thank you. And no, I'm all good. I'll see you at your place. 6:30?"

"That sounds great. Bye, Y/N."

You said your goodbye, and then hung up the phone and got up off the couch. You grabbed the tote you had packed from your bedroom, then turned around to make your way out the door. If you left now, you'd make it to Spencer's a few minutes early, even with the traffic.

* * *

You found Spencer's apartment without too much trouble. It was an outdated white building, but it had some modern elements that had most likely been added on when renovations were needed. It was charming; two stories tall, and had delicate glass windows that contrasted with the chunky brick exterior.

Once you were parked, you texted him to say that you had arrived. Then, you got out of the car and swung your "after" bag over your shoulder. It was filled with a comfy change of clothes along with fresh panties and some spare toiletries.

Spencer's apartment didn't have locked doors, nor did it have a buzzer, so you were able to let yourself in. There didn't seem to be a lot of activity going on anywhere in the building, judging from the lack of noise.

You took the stairs up to the second level and scanned the doors to find his unit. 

Number 23.

You knocked a few times, which was followed by the sound of Spencer's footsteps as he got closer to the door. There was a jiggling of metal, and a click, and then the door swung open.

Spencer stood there in black slacks, and form-fitting blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm. He also wore a matching blue tie.

"Hello," he murmured, although there was excitement seeping through his dark exterior.

"Hi," you responded. Your voice was higher than normal.

Spencer moved aside to let you in.

The first thing you noticed were the walls; olive green with bookshelves concealing much of the exposed green paint. There were a few mis-matched sconces on some of the walls which looked dimly lit. Some frames of artwork were hung on the walls in a way that looked deliberate, but also in a way that lacked balance the longer you stared. There were books stacked on almost every available surface, however some piles were more cluttered than others. Boxy leather furniture, vintage cushions, and a maroon carpet helped the room to appear more charismatic.

"Thanks for coming earlier, Y/N. How was your day?"

You spun back around to answer him.

"Uh, it was good. I had most of the afternoon off, so I kind of just spent the rest of the day doing things around the house. You?"

"Well, we - my team - didn't have a case, so we just worked on files and paperwork all day. It was good, though. Nice to have a break in between cases, I guess."

"That's good. Yeah, I can't imagine that working case after case with no time to recuperate is much fun." You gestured to the bag on your shoulder; unsure of where to put it.

"Here, I can take that," Spencer said, holding his hand out for your tote, and then pulling it onto his own shoulder instead. "Can I get you anything before we get started? Water, coffee, a snack?"

"That's alright, but thank you. I already ate, actually."

"Okay," he said, and then he motioned for you to follow him.

He led you down the hallway and into his bedroom, and then he set your bag down on the floor beside his nightstand. While he did that, you took in his room.

The walls were dark grey, and one of them was covered in complementary wallpaper. His bed frame was polished and wooden; low to the ground with short head and footboards that had small, rounded posts on each of the corners. More books were clumped around the room on various surfaces, and a brown leather foot bench was pulled up against the end of the bed. An antique desk lamp rested on his nightstand table, and in the far corner of the room, an old wingback chair and copper floor lamp stood. His room had the same charming feel as the rest of the apartment.

When Spencer turned back in your direction, his fingertips were pressed together.

"So my plan for tonight is to take things lightly. I want us to get a feel for things, to get familiar with each other," he smiled gently. "You also drove here, so I want to be cautious, but if you feel like you're dropping after, just tell me and I can take you home. That's no problem, okay?"

"Okay," you nodded, returning his smile.

"So normally, if we're playing, and I tell you to go wait for me, I'd expect you to come in here, get undressed - save for your lingerie, and-" Spencer walked towards you, and pointed to the floor halfway between the edge of the bed and the door. "-sit on your knees here, keeping your thighs parted slightly. And I want you to keep your gaze down, until I speak to you, when you're like this."

He watched you as he spoke, and then added, "Unless I tell you a specific way that I want you to wait for me."

"Yes Sir."

Spencer's features twisted into a proud but amused smirk.

"That's okay, we aren't playing yet, if you don't want to call me that. But I'm glad you remembered, and I certainly won't stop you." 

Now it was your turn to give him a smile, albeit a shy one.

"Do you remember the safe words?" He asked.

"Yes. Green means I'm good; yellow to warn you that I'm reaching my limit or when I need you to stop what you're doing; and red to end the scene," you told him.

"Good girl. And remember that you can use them at any time, Y/N. I won't be upset. In fact, I want you to use them if you need to, because my real goal here is to _please_ you, not to push you beyond what you can handle. Do you understand?"

"I understand," you said, heart fluttering from his praise.

"Good. Now why don't you get into the wait position while l do a couple things, and then we'll start, alright?"

Just to push him further, you held eye contact as you spoke.

"Yes Sir."

The approval that melted into his eyes made your stomach tighten. Spencer closed the distance between you and reached out a hand to hold your chin. His hands were far warmer than yours and probably felt odd against your cool skin. His grip was firm as he stroked his index finger over your jaw.

"So good for me already," he whispered, looking into your eyes.

You felt pleasure course through your body at his words, content with yourself for pleasing him.

Spencer let your chin go, but not before his eyes wandered across your features. Then, he turned and left the room, and you started to undress. You weren't sure where to put your clothes, so you just pushed them back against the wall with your foot.

Once you were clad in only your bra and panties, you knelt down on the floor, thighs resting on your calves, and you spread your knees away from each other like he asked. You could hear Spencer a few rooms away but couldn't tell what he was doing. The room was cool, and the wooden floor on your legs was giving you goosebumps. After a few more seconds, you heard his footsteps approach and enter his bedroom.

Without speaking, he walked past you and sat on the edge of the bed, facing you. In your peripheral vision, you could see him use both hands to loosen his tie, and then he placed both hands on the edge of the bed, watching you.

You didn't dare look up, and the intensity of his gaze made you sink further into a submissive headspace.

After another moment had passed, Spencer broke the silence. One of his hands lifted from the bed, and he used two fingers to call you over.

"Come here."

A little jolt of anticipation dropped into your core. Any warmth or lightheartedness from earlier was gone. Quickly, you rose from the floor and walked over to him. His thighs were apart, so you stood between them.

Spencer's hands found the backs of your arms, and his fingers squeezed you reassuringly. You kept your head level, eyes meeting his chest. 

"You look so pretty," he mumbled.

You took this as a good time to look up at him. His eyes were dark.

Turning you around, so that you faced away from him, Spencer wrapped an arm around your belly and guided you to sit down between his thighs. Then, he gathered your hair from the front of your shoulders and swooped it so that it fell down your back. You could feel his hot chest against your body, and his level breathing.

Spencer's touch was gentle as he placed his hands on your torso, running his fingers up over your skin. They settled on your breasts and he lightly palmed one while his other hand cupped your other breast. The faintest sigh left your lips.

Spencer's hands glided to the valley between your breasts and worked to undo the clasp, letting the cool air hit you. He slid the bra from your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Before the cool temperature could make you uncomfortable, his warm hands found your breasts again, and he used both thumbs to rub over your nipples.

Your breathing was becoming shallower than it had been.

"You're so pretty," he cooed, and you whimpered when he pinched your right nipple.

The sound made him groan softly, and you could feel yourself start to get wet; the thin lace of your panties doing little to mask the feeling.

Spencer continued massaging your breasts, and occasionally he would swipe the rough pad of his thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. He tilted his head down and his mouth found your earlobe, drawing it between his lips and sucking. You moaned when he let his teeth graze over it.

"So responsive," he told you.

And then he bent down further so his mouth could reach your neck, planting a few small kisses along it. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more room to explore. One hand played with your breast and the other was pressed into your belly, holding you tightly against him.

He lightly sucked down your neck, moving to the place where it met your shoulder. Your breath was shaky now. And then his tongue darted out and he licked a stripe from your shoulder back to your earlobe, causing you to sigh loudly.

Spencer chuckled, but it was condescending. 

"Is that all it's going to take to get you wound up, Bambi?"

You whimpered at his tone, letting your eyes fall closed and lulling your head to the side.

"Answer me." He barked.

Your eyes shot open and you mumbled.

"No, sir."

Spencer's lips found your earlobe again and he used his teeth to tug it, making your body jerk at the sensation.

"No? Are you sure?"

His hands slid down your body to your thighs, adjusting them so they were resting on across his, rather than next to. Because his legs were so long, it was almost uncomfortable with how wide he was making you sit. You could feel his cock pressing into you, and it made your walls clench.

"Let's see about that."

Again, one hand held you firmly against his chest, and his other hand trailed up your thigh until it reached your hip. Slowly, he dipped his fingers into the waistband of your panties and stroked along the soft skin there, making you gasp and tense up.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he cursed.

You whimpered as his hand dipped lower, right over your sensitive clit, causing you to buck your hips into his hand.

"I think someone was lying," he chided, as he brought his fingers back over your clit, pausing there. You held in another whimper.

"Acting like a little slut."

Spencer slid his fingers along your slit, gathering the wetness there, and then he drew his hand out.

"Do you feel how wet you are? Fuck."

He brought two fingers to your mouth, and you eagerly took them in. Your tongue flattened as you let him slide his fingers as far back as you could willingly let them go. Your tongue swirled in between his fingers, dividing them and collecting your arousal, and then you hollowed your cheeks and began to suck up the length of his fingers. Once you reached the tips you sunk back down to do it again.

Spencer groaned lower this time.

Drool was escaping out of the corners your lips, coating your chin and his palm, but he didn't seem to mind. You sloppily let it escape, while the wet sounds of his fingers in your mouth filled the room.

" _Shit_ , that's enough, baby," he cooed, using his free hand to move your thighs off of his. He removed his fingers from your mouth, wiping away the spit from your mouth.

"You're being such a good girl tonight."

Your pussy dripped at his words, causing you to mewl. Spencer coaxed you into a standing position and then turned you back around to face him. His eyes were full of lust, and you could now clearly see the bulge in the front of his pants.

His hands squeezed your hips, and he slid your panties down your legs, allowing you to step out of them.

"I want you to sit here, and you're going to ride my thigh until I tell you to stop."

He used his hands to guide you onto his knee, and you let out a high-pitched moan when the fabric of his trousers scraped against your clit.

Spencer let his fingers dig into your skin, while he helped you set a steady rhythm. Only the balls of your feet were able to make contact with the floor, and you moved your hips along his thigh with Spencer's help. Your hands came to rest around his shoulders, and you slouched over onto his shoulder while rubbing yourself against him.

Desperate moans escaped your lips as your clit got more and more sensitive. Spencer put one hand in-between you, teasing you with tight, hard circles, and you angled your hips so that your clit got the pressure where you wanted it.

You continued to pant, feeling the start of an orgasm build inside of you. Quickening your pace, you grasped Spencer tighter, trying to get closer to the edge. Spencer knew what you were doing, and he helped you along by gathering more wetness and using it to quicken his circles on your clit.

You were wild; bucking your hips along his thigh, while he encouraged you with his hand. The wave inside of you grew bigger, almost reaching its peak. A few more seconds and you would be there.

Just before you felt yourself cross that edge, Spencer's hand pulled away from your core and he pried you off of his knee, making you stand up on your own. Your legs felt weak and your upper half wanted to find something to lean on again.

"Ugh fuck, Daddy," you cried out, disappointed and frustrated.

As soon as the words left your mouth you realized what you had just said. Worried, you tried to find Spencer's gaze, but when you looked at where it should have been, he was already standing and moving towards you.

Grabbing your waist, he picked you up and spun you so that your back was on the bed. He pushed your body up towards the headboard until your head made contact with the pillows there. Climbing on top of you, he grabbed your wrists from your sides and pinned them in one hand above your head.

"Oh, don't act like a whiny whore now. _Daddy_ gets to decide when you cum, remember?"

Any embarrassment you had felt over your choice of words was quickly replaced by surprise. You choked out a moan and your eyes closed.

"Do you remember?" He pressed.

_You're going to ride my thigh until I tell you to stop._

"Yes, I remember," you breathed.

"Yes what?"

"I remember, Daddy."

You recalled his earlier words: _Nor will it bother me, Y/N._

Spencer moved to hover over you, his tie dragging along your skin, and his other hand moved to cup your cheek. The look on his face was hungry, and you lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, hoping he'd see that you were trying to create some friction. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft.

"That's my good girl. Can you give me your colour?"

You stared up at him, desperately wanting him to see how ready and turned on you were.

"Green."

He released your wrists and crawled back down your body. When his feet had touched the end of the bed, he raised himself off you so that he was kneeling. A smug smile graced his lips, and he watched you while you looked at him.

There on his pants was a circle of your arousal from earlier, smeared into a thick line from where you had rubbed yourself up and down along his thigh.

"You see what you did?" His tone wasn't condescending this time, it was proud. He didn't give you time to respond. "Now you're going to lay back, and I'm going to taste you this time."

He spread your legs out and settled his face between them, inches from your swollen clit. He peered up at you, keeping his eyes on yours as he lowered his mouth onto you. Your hands reached down and tangled themselves in his hair.

Spencer's tongue licked you from the bottom of your lips up to your clit, and back again. You pulled his hair as needy whines escaped your lips.

"Mmh, you taste so good, Bambi," he whispered.

His tongue circled around your clit, making your hips buck into his mouth. 

Spencer hummed against your skin. He let his tongue lazily explore your folds as you continued to grip his head. He continued to tease you, planting a kiss to your centre, keeping his movements slow and calculated.

Your clit was beginning to throb again and more mewls spilled out of your mouth.

And then without warning or hesitation, Spencer began hungrily lapping at your clit, creating more pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You were whining louder and faster now, and it only encouraged Spencer to become more feral. His tongue teased your hole, dipping into you again and again, and his lips sucked on your labia. After he was done playing with your folds, he moved up to play with your clit. Your denied orgasm combined with the current stimulation was enough to make you yell out.

"Ah, Fuck!"

Spencer smiled against your core, his head frantically nodding back and forth, never slowing down his pace. Sometimes you felt the light stubble along his lips and jaw scrape against you, and you would squirm underneath him when that happened.

He continued to eat at your clit, and you felt yourself strongly building up to another orgasm. You gripped his head tighter, forcing him to stay down against you, and then moved your thighs to wrap around his head. All the while you were panting in need.

His hands left your hips, and his fingernails left marks from where he had been holding you down. He moved them to the outsides of your thighs, helping you hold his face tightly between them.

The pressure inside of you grew stronger with this new position, and tumble of curses slipped from your mouth. You could feel the spit from Spencer's mouth drip down your folds, along with what was no doubt your own arousal.

When Spencer used his tongue to lick another flat stripe over your clit, followed by him suckling harshly, a broken groan flew from you. The pressure inside of you was so so close to reaching the edge again, and you wanted him to know it.

Squeezing your thighs tighter around his head, you let him hear how desperate you were.

"Please, let me come, Sir, I want to so bad, I- I'm so close."

Your voice was shaky, and it was hard to talk through the pleasure. Spencer moaned against you.

"Cum in my mouth, little girl," his words blew hot air against your core, and then he was back to licking and sucking on you relentlessly.

The throbbing inside of you hit a record severity and you squeaked out some more whimpers while his tongue dipped inside you again. A wave of pleasure crashed through your body, and your legs fell limp around his ears, beginning to shake. Your belly heaved as you panted, and your walls clenched and unclenched around his tongue.

Despite your clear orgasm, Spencer kept going.

He continued to suck at your clit while your hands dug into his scalp trying to pull him off your centre. Frantic whines spilled out of you, and Spencer slowed down his movements, until he took pity on you and lifted his head.

Your eyes were squeezed shut in bliss, heart rate pounding as you rode out the ripples of your orgasm.

"You just sound so pretty when you cum." 

Your belly continued heaving and Spencer crawled up your body so that he was on top of you. He used his hands to smooth your hair from where it stuck to your forehead. You reached up to do the same for him, before you settled your hands on his shoulders.

A lazy, droopy smile spread across your lips and you peered up at him. His own face contorted into a matching expression.

"You wanna taste?" He teased.

You knew what he was getting at and answered in a whine of agreement.

Spencer used the pad of his thumb to separate your lips, and you happily obliged by opening your mouth and tilting your head back slightly.

A bubble of spit breached past Spencer's open lips until it became too heavy, white, and thick, and dropped from his lips before falling into your waiting mouth.

You groaned and swallowed immediately, eyes closing. When you opened them back up to look at them, Spencer's face was delighted and curious.

"You like that? You like how you taste on me?" He cooed.

"Mmh, yes," you whined. "Do it again, please"

The pleasure on his face intensified.

"Please what, baby?"

"Please, Daddy."

Spencer blinked his eyes closed for a second and let out a groan. He rewarded you, but this time rather than let the spit fall, his hand helped widen your mouth a little more, before he spit forcefully in your mouth.

You moaned, feeling yourself get wet again.

After wiping away the few strings of spit that were on his lips, his thumb stroked your cheek bones.

When both of your heart rates had become normal once more, Spencer mumbled more praises to you.

"You were so good for me, so fucking good. I'm gonna get some things to clean you up, okay?" After he complimented you, his voice had become soft and familiar again.

A look of confusion passed over your face at the recognition that the scene was over.

"Wait, Spencer, don't you wanna finish?" 

There was still a sizeable tent at the front of his slacks, and his member was pushing tightly against it.

"No, Y/N, that's okay," he pressed his arms into the mattress on either side of your head and rose away from you. "Just because I didn't finish in the traditional sense doesn't mean I didn't enjoy myself. And immensely so," he smiled. "Just wait right here, I'll be back, alright?"

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and you watched him leave the bedroom. Your body slumped over on top of his sheets.

It wasn't _that_ odd to hear a dom say something like that, you supposed. They derived pleasure from your submission; from playing with your body while you let them.

But still, you wished you could return the favour for him; to find out what if felt like for him to be inside you.

Spencer came back into the room before you could think about it any further. He had a wet cloth in his hand, and what looked like a container of cream in the other. His tie was gone now, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone.

"Alright, come here," he said gently, while returning back to the bed.

He set the container of lotion on the nightstand table, then rested one knee on the mattress while his free hand cupped your face. Spencer used the washcloth to wipe your forehead, and then across your cheeks and over your lips, cleaning away any dried spit.

Tenderly, he ran the cloth over your belly, down to your centre, and you parted your legs to give him better access. You closed your eyes, enjoying the intimacy of aftercare.

He carefully wiped at your folds, washing away your arousal and his spit. He was gentle as he spread your lips, cleaning you until everything was gone.

You heard him throw the cloth onto his table, and then heard the plastic container's lid being unscrewed and set on top of the wood. You opened your eyes to see what he was doing.

"This is just some gel to help with the chafing from earlier. It'll soothe any soreness away, alright?"

You nodded up at him, feeling sleepy post-orgasm, and mumbled out an 'okay'.

Spencer had the gel coated on two fingers, and like before, he softly massaged it into your skin. You enjoyed the cool feeling of it - it was already soothing against your puffy lips.

Spencer finished up quickly and wiped the gel off his fingers with the cloth. Then, he grabbed your bag from where it sat next to his nightstand. He placed it on the bed next to you, opening it.

"Is there anything I can get you from here?"

"Yeah, actually that'd be great... there should be a white t-shirt on top in there," you told him.

Spencer pulled it out and moved to help you into a seated position. He wrapped an arm around you, giving him space to slip the oversized cotton shirt over your head, and tugged it so that it draped down over your naked body. 

"Thanks, Spencer," you said, more awake now that you were sitting upright.

"Yeah, of course. How do you feel? Tired? Sore? Floaty?" He was referring to a subdrop.

"No, I feel great, actually. A bit tired, but in a few minutes it'll pass," you smiled.

Spencer nodded.

"Do you want to have a shower? Or something to eat or drink?"

"Water would be good, maybe," you told him, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"Of course. I'll be right back."

While Spencer turned and left the room again, you dug around your bag, finding your sweats, comfy underwear, and a pair of socks. You had just finished putting them all on, when he returned with two glasses of water. He set one down on his nightstand and passed the other to you.

You gratefully accepted, taking a long sip, before reaching over to put it onto the table beside his own glass.

Spencer moved to sit on the edge of the bed, angling himself towards you.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, Spencer, I'm all good! I feel great, actually."

"Yeah? Can I do anything for you?" He reached over and rubbed your knee in a comforting gesture, his large hand engulfing your kneecap.

"Honestly I might just sit here a minute, if that's okay," you admitted, wanting a chance to let your mind recuperate.

"Yeah! Take all the time you need. I'm gonna quickly change and then I'll be back."

He got up from the bed and dug out a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He smiled at you as he passed the bed and then made his way to the bathroom.

While he was gone you just laid there. The smooth comforter on his bed was nice against your exposed skin, and his pillows were fluffy, cradling you as you let yourself relax.

When Spencer returned, he was clad in the t-shirt and sweats. He stopped by the wall where you had kicked your lingerie and clothes and scooped them up. He began folding them in to a neat pile.

"Oh, Spencer, you don't have to do that," you protested, scurrying up off the bed to help him.

"No, Y/N, I got it, it's okay. Just go rest," he insisted.

"It's fine, I should get going soon anyway."

The sight of him folding your clothes made you realize that eventually you'd have to go. You hadn't plan on staying here anyway, but it was better for you to leave before you got too comfortable, and then awkwardly have to excuse yourself. 

Spencer shot you a worried glance.

"Are you sure? Do you feel okay to drive? I mean- I know what we did wasn't very intense tonight, but I don't want you walking out of here alone if you're vulnerable."

You collected the pile from his arms, stacking it on top of the cardigan you had folded, and hugged them close to your chest.

"I'm being honest. I meant it when I said I felt great after, and I still do. I'm a little tired, but I swear I feel comfortable driving home, okay?"

You peered up at him, wanting him to see the truth in your eyes. He accepted it.

"Okay. But I want you to text me when you've made it home, and please - I cannot stress this enough - _please_ call me if you start dropping. If you feel sad, worried, alone... I'm here to take care of you."

You promised him you would follow his instructions. Then, you spun back around and stuffed the pile of clothes into your bag. Spencer came up behind you at the same time you turned back to face him. His hands squeezed your shoulders. 

"Remember what I said."

You stared into his eyes; the seriousness of his tone demanded your full attention.

"I promise, Spencer. And I'll call you if I need." You insisted.

He walked you to the door, but you could tell he didn't like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! To be completely real, I've never written smut before so I'm not sure what you'll think of this. I'm only writing it based off what I've learned from other fics, so if you have any feedback (what you like, what you didn't like, what you wished I'd included), I'd appreciate that! In addition, if you have any ideas for future scenes, feel free to let me know - I'm always looking for inspiration. I Hope you all have a good sleep tonight. Thanks for reading, and as always, I love you!


	6. Bondage, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Spencer do some rope play. Afterwards, Spencer gets called in for a case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Rope bondage, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), choking, degradation, unprotected sex/creampie, spitting, praise, Daddy kink.
> 
> On a side note, I've started to proof-read my chapters after realizing how much they needed it :) If you see any mistakes that I missed, feel free to let me know so that I can fix them!

Spending yesterday evening with Spencer had been a welcome way to re-familiarize yourself with what it felt like to play again. It was nice having Spencer ease you back into a submissive role, letting him make the decisions for you. Perhaps what was best, though, was the way he cared for you, and he wanted you to know that. He was wonderful; he knew the responsibilities he had as a dominant, and last night he had been nothing but respectful, wanting to make sure you were all right afterwards. 

You had followed through with your promise and texted him to say that you made it home safely, and he responded appreciatively. But after that, nothing more had been said about when you two would play again. Which was why you were surprised to hear back from him today while you were doing laundry.

Spencer had called and asked how you were doing, and if you were up to playing again tonight. He explained that he needed a distraction; that he wanted to feel in control for a little bit. Today had been hard for him, and he wanted an escape from it.

When you asked if he was okay, he had brushed it off as stress from the job, but you knew that there likely was more to it than he let on. However, if he wanted to talk about it, you'd have to wait until he was ready, because it really wasn't your place to push him on his personal life, no matter how intimate your relationship was. 

This was about sex, and anything beyond a dominant-submissive role wasn't what you were there for. And so you told him you'd come over after he was done work. 

When Spencer answered the door to his apartment, his hair was more disheveled than usual. It looked like he had run his hands through it all day, and his eyes were tired. From his appearance, it was clear that whatever was bothering him hadn't stayed behind at Quantico.

He had greeted you softly, and the two of you exchanged pleasantries before he asked you to go to his room to wait for him. Obediently, you listened, and that was how you found yourself currently waiting on the floor for him.

Minutes had passed before he approached the doorway. When he walked into the room, his footsteps were slow and gentle. You kept your gaze down, and it surprised you when he lowered himself to crouch down in front of you.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I just needed a second. This isn't the way I wanted to start tonight." He shook his head as if he was upset with himself. You could see it in his face that he was apologetic, and it was evident from his tone that the scene hadn't started yet, even though you were already in position. 

"Oh," you responded lamely. "How did you want to start tonight?"

You adjusted your knees so that you could sit comfortably while he explained.

"I just want to talk over the scene first. I was hoping we'd be able to try rope bondage tonight. It's been a while since I've done that, and I want more practice with it. I know all of the knots and stuff, it's just not something you can really do by yourself." He smiled sheepishly and you nodded while he continued. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay with that before we started. But if you're not, I have other things I'd like to try, too."

"No, rope bondage sounds fine to me," you encouraged.

"Okay. Great. And I never asked you before, but are you taking any contraceptives? We never really went over that."

Did that mean you guys were going to...? You kept your face calm, but your heart rate increased. 

"Yeah, I get the shot each month."

"That's great. We can still use a condom, Y/N, I just wanted to make sure there were other measures in place while we're doing this."

A fragment of disappointment stirred inside of you. You were hoping you wouldn't need to, seeing as you were both clean and tested recently. It just felt so much better without one.

"Oh, only if you want to. I personally like the feeling better without one, so don't feel like you need to on my account. But if you want to use one, then by all means we can."

Spencer looked at you. "You'd rather I didn't wear one?"

"Well, I want you to do whatever you want. But I just meant that if you're only wearing one because you thought I'd prefer it, I'm saying you don't need to. That's all."

"Okay, uh," he ran a hand through his hair as if surprised at the turn the conversation had taken. "well, if you really don't mind then, I'd have to agree with you - I like it better without, too." 

"Then it's settled," you smiled.

Spencer gestured for you to get up and come to him. "Why don't you lay on my bed while I set up. Do you want anything before we start?"

"I'm all good," you said, climbing up to lay on your back in the centre of his bed.

You watched as Spencer opened his closet doors and pulled out a small bin. From it, he took out several different bundles of black rope that were each neatly tied so they wouldn't tangle together. He came to the side of the bed to stand beside your head. You looked over to see what he was going to do.

"This is just nylon rope. I'm going to use it to secure your wrists and legs, if that's okay."

"That's fine."

He reached out to grab the wrist closest to him, letting it rest above your head. Spencer folded the rope and weaved one of the ends to create a loop of sorts, before he wrapped the rope around your arm. From there, you could feel him make a few different knots until your wrist was securely tied. He used the other ends of the rope to tie your wrist around the bed post on his headboard, before walking to the other side of the bed and repeating what he had just done to your other hand.

When he was finished with your arms, he looked down at your face.

"Doing okay?"

"Yes, Sir," you assured him, tugging gently with both arms to test his work. They could move a couple inches at best.

Spencer moved to the foot of the bed, taking one of the bigger bundles of rope and unravelling it. When it was untied, he put a knee up on the base of the bed and leaned over you, rope in hand with a smug look on his face.

"I'm going to take this off, now, before it becomes impossible," he told you, reaching up to place his hands on the bra straps on your shoulders. His eyes asked you if it was okay for him to continue, and you told him he could go ahead.

"That's a pretty colour on you, Bambi," he cooed, while sliding the straps off of your shoulders. He reached underneath you, and you arched your chest to give him room to undo the clasp at the back. "It's almost too bad that you won't be wearing it much longer." 

His hands were warm against your skin. They always seemed to be warm, and the thought made you feel guilty. Your skin was never warm like that, but Spencer hadn't seemed to mind it so far.

Once your bra was gone, Spencer dropped it on the floor beside the bed and tucked the rope underneath you, draping it over your shoulders and weaving it back down the front of your chest. His face was focused, and he worked quickly while he knotted the long strands. Soon the rope was intricately wrapped around your chest and torso in a makeshift harness, with gaps that created spaces for your breasts. 

When he was finished with the harness, he gave a quick tug on the two straps he had made over your shoulders, testing out the security of his work just like you had done. Satisfied that it would hold, he moved to place his hands on your hips. Like before, he gazed up at you, silently asking for permission to remove your panties.

You motioned with your chin that it was alright. 

"I need words, Y/N."

"It's okay, Sir," you corrected yourself.

"Good girl."

His praise made you feel warm, causing a small smiled to dance briefly on your lips. Spencer's thumbs stroked at the skin on your hips before he hooked them under the waistband and pulled your panties down your legs. You bent your knees, making it easier for him to slide them off. 

Now the only thing covering you was the rope, and you knew he was enjoying himself. He held the backs of your thighs, opening you up to him.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, and the tiny bubble of delight in your belly grew. 

And then he grabbed another bundle of rope and adjusted your legs so that each one pointed towards the bottom corners of the mattress. He looped the rope in the same way as he had for your arms, creating a hole for your ankle. This time the tie wasn't as tight as the ones on your wrists, but it wasn't loose enough to slip off, either. Spencer did the same thing to your other ankle, making you become fully immobilized.

"Still doing okay?"

"I'm great."

Spencer hummed in response, before he leaned over the bed once more, hands trailing up over your torso. Your skin tingled from the sensation in his wake. His hands came to rest at the sides of your ribs, gently squeezing underneath your breasts.

He dipped his head, and his hair fell across your belly, making you twitch underneath him, but there was nowhere for you to go.

"I've got you now, Bambi," he teased. When he looked up at you his eyes were dark with lust.

Spencer let his hair drag across your skin until his head was hovering above your core. His breath was hot against you, and you grew wet in anticipation. He peered back up at you quickly, before his eyes settled on your folds and he lowered his mouth on to the wet skin there. You let out a moan when his lips made contact. 

Spencer's lips parted and he drew your labia into his mouth, letting his tongue tease over the skin. He ran his tongue between your folds and up near your clit, but before it could reach the sensitive bundle of nerves, he stopped. A quiet whine escaped your lips. 

"You're so wet for me already," he whispered against your pussy. "A little whore like you, I know you like being all tied up. You probably can't wait for me to fuck you."

You struggled to keep your breathing even. Arousal pooled in between your folds at his arrogance, and you moaned. He wasn't wrong. 

Spencer put his mouth back on you, sucking at your folds again. His tongue dipped into you, collecting the wetness there, and he let out a groan. Your hips bucked up softly when his tongue entered you further, and he pressed his hands into your hips, keeping you down. 

He ran his tongue around your entrance, swirling it over the opening and you moaned louder. 

"That's it, I want to hear you." 

He rewarded you by finally dragging his lips to your clit, making you squirm underneath him. His fingers tightened slightly, preparing to hold you down again, but you relaxed before he needed to. He traced his tongue around the edge of your clit, and you cried out, wanting to feel more of him.

Spencer watched your face while he collected the some of your arousal in his mouth. Lifting his head away from you, his lips parted, and he spit on your pussy; it was harsh, almost angry, but your belly tensed up in pleasure when you felt the spit run down over your clit and along your folds. More wetness gathered between thighs and you sucked a deep breath in.

He wasted no time after that, returning his tongue to your clit, licking it in one swift motion. You whimpered again, blowing out the breath you had been holding and jerked underneath him. His hands pressed into you again, and he lapped up the trail of spit that he had just left. He swiped his tongue across your clit, and the feeling inside of you grew with each stroke of his tongue.

Spencer applied more pressure to your clit, pressing his head into you, and lapped with a new ferocity. Full of intention, he used the new pressure to draw you closer to the edge each time his tongue passed over your clit.

You were only half aware that you were tugging at the ropes with your ankles. The light chaffing was nothing compared to the way it felt to have his mouth suck on your core. You wanted so badly to close your thighs around his face, to press him into you but it was impossible to bend your knees more than a few degrees.

You cried out again when Spencer let the stubble on his cheek scrape against your inner thighs, and it encouraged him to tease you further. 

Your arms were also futile; if you could move them, you'd grip the back of his head, holding him against you to create the most sensation that you could, but it was pointless to keep trying. The rope wasn't going to loosen, and if you kept trying, your wrists would be sore tomorrow.

As the ripple inside of you grew to its peak, you reached a point where you thrust up against his head to push yourself over the edge, but his hands held you firmly in place once you started to move. The shallow moans coming from you told Spencer you were close, and he eagerly worked his tongue to bring you to orgasm.

"Come on, baby, cum for me," he growled.

That was enough to send you over the edge, and another cry escaped your lips, this one louder than the others before it. The pulsating inside of you spread throughout your whole body while Spencer rode through your orgasm with you, keeping his mouth on you while you whimpered with each throb of pleasure.

When your orgasm had passed, you opened your eyes to look down at Spencer, who was already watching you. 

"You like it when I use my mouth to make you cum, you little whore? Does it turn you on, when Daddy lets you cum in his mouth?"

All you could do was whimper. 

"I asked you a question," he barked.

You tried to catch your breath, making your voice sound as clear as possible. 

"Yes, Daddy," you whined. It came out breathy.

"That's what I thought."

Spencer ran his hands up over your chest, stopping at your breasts to give them a light squeeze, before he climbed over your body and attached his lips your neck. He placed a few rough kisses along the tender skin, sucking gently, before he retreated his assault back down your body. You were panting as his lips trailed down your body. 

When he made it to your legs, he rubbed his hands along them, trying to soothe any tension from your repeated pulling. He pressed a few light kisses along your inner thigh, before straightening up and looking at you again. 

"Can you give me your colour?"

"Green," you sighed. 

Spencer bent down to kiss you above your core. "Okay," he cooed, "let's get you ready for me."

Your eyes widened momentarily, ready with anticipation, but you replaced that expression with one of need. This prompted him to run a finger along your slit, until it was just outside of your entrance. 

Spencer rubbed your folds, gathering your arousal, before he pushed a finger inside of you. You moaned as you felt his finger glide in, softly stretching out your walls. He pumped his hand slowly, teasing you. You could feel how wet you were from the sounds it made.

He added another finger, causing you to arch your back. A wave of pleasure hit you as he stroked his fingers in and out.

"You're so tight," he mumbled, more to himself than you. Then he curled both fingers, letting the tips press against your upper wall. The sensation made you whine, and Spencer quickened his pace. Your walls tightened around him as he continued to please you with his hand. 

When your arousal was thickly coated around his fingers, he groaned again, and the sound made you tilt your head farther back into the sheets. Another needy moan escaped your lips, and you threw your head back.

A second orgasm was quickly building inside of you again, spurred on by your last one. You squeezed your walls around his fingers to create a tighter space, wanting to see how that would feel.

Spencer cursed as you tightened around his fingers and he used his thumb to rub fast circles over your clit. You felt the climax grow until you could barely hold it. Shallow pants were coming out of your lips and Spencer brought his other hand up to fondle your breast. 

His thumb stroked your hardened nipple and it had all become too much to keep it contained any longer. 

"I want you to cum for me again," he ordered. "You're doing so well, baby. I want to feel you cum on my pretty fingers."

That sent you over the edge and you mewled loudly, letting yourself go. When you shut your eyes, Spencer protested, telling you to keep them open. He watched your face go blank, and you tried to hold eye contact as your body went limp with pleasure. You clenched around his fingers as they pumped you softly through your orgasm with short, slow strokes. The tension inside you was beginning to subside. 

"Good girl," he praised, pulling his fingers out of you when you had gone still. He held them up to his mouth, pushing the tips in the smallest bit, before he retracted them. Crawling onto the bed over your hot and sweaty form, Spencer held his hands in between your faces. 

He gazed down at you, and you parted your lips, showing him what you wanted. Carefully he slid the two fingers into your mouth, and your lips sealed around them. He stroked them along your tongue while you sucked at the wetness, cleaning them off. 

When he pulled them out of you, you whined, wishing he'd let you tease his fingers for a little longer.

"Shh, Bambi, just wait."

You glanced down to the front of his pants, seeing the hard bulge that was pressed against the fabric. Spencer glanced down at his erection, and then back at you with a knowing smile.

"I won't make the little slut wait much longer," he told you, climbing back off the bed and reaching to free one of your ankles. He quickly undid the tie, and then went over to the other side, freeing it as well. 

Instinctively, you flexed your feet, and drew them up to try and restore some of the feeling back into them. Spencer put a hand around each ankle, massaging them gently before he let his hands run up over your calves to your inner thighs. Spreading your legs for you, he moved so that he was on top of you. 

Spencer reached up to loosen the rope around each wrist so you had a greater range of movement. You were still bound, but it wasn't as taut as before.

Once satisfied, he resumed his position over your hips and undid the buttons of his shirt until it fell open. You watched him, entranced at the way his agile fingers worked to slip the shirt off his shoulders. 

A faint scar glistened on his neck, but the rest of his skin looked unmarred and creamy. His chest was firm; the skin smooth and delicate, stretching over the lean muscles of his abdomen. Simply put, he was beautiful. You averted your gaze back up to his face before he could catch you staring. 

It was too late, though, because when you looked at his face again, his eyes were trained on yours.

Spencer's face full of need and your own expression probably matched the one on his. He wasted no time undoing the button at the top of his trousers, and in one motion he slid his pants and boxers down to his knees, letting his erection spring free.

His member sprung out until it was flat against his stomach, hard and swollen. The tip was already leaking, and precum dripped over the delicate veins of his cock.

Your pussy clenched again letting more wetness seep out of your folds.

Spencer stroked the length of him, using the cum as lube while he aligned himself at your entrance. He used one arm to balance himself as he leaned over you.

"Is this still okay?" 

" _Fuck_. Yes Sir, just put it in me," you whined.

He stroked himself a few more times, before looking back at you. 

"Yeah? Put it in you, _what_?"

"Put it in me please," you begged, frustrated that he was taking his time. You knew it was intentional; he was drawing this out to see how needy you would get.

"A whore like you doesn't have much patience, does she?"

"Please, Sir," you tried again.

"You're so polite, Bambi," He cooed. His voice was laced with condescension, but he didn't make you wait any longer. Spencer used a hand to guide himself into you.

You both let out a groan as he stretched your walls. His cock was thick and long, making your walls ache as he pushed himself deeper inside of you. Spencer cursed and adjusted his hips so that he could get a better angle. You curled your legs around his hips, making it easier for him to adjust himself inside of you. 

He gently brought his hips back, sliding a few inches out of you before pushing himself back in the rest of the way. You whined as he filled you completely. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," you sighed, "I'm good, you can keep moving."

Spencer drew his hips back again, this time until he was nearly out of you, and then he thrust his hips forward, allowing his cock to become fully sheathed in you once more. You both moaned again, and he took it as a sign to quicken his pace.

The head of his cock would press into the deepest part of you with each thrust, and the size of him made your pussy throb around him with each motion.

Spencer's hands wandered across your breasts, moving to rest on the bed above each shoulder. The muscles of his belly flexed with each thrust and his body heat radiated over your skin.

You tightened your legs to pull him closer into you, and his eyes rolled back with a loud moan. Your arms were still bound, but you longed to wrap them around him back. The most you could do was jerk them forwards before the motion was halted.

At your whine, Spencer used a hand to wipe the hair away from your forehead; a small consolation for the fact that you couldn't touch him.

The angle Spencer was thrusting at caused the head of his cock to hit your g-spot each time he snapped his hips forward. For the third time, the familiar feeling of another orgasm grew in your belly. His cock twitched inside of you, telling you that he was close to the finish line, too.

While he drilled into you, Spencer brought one hand to the side of your neck, his thumb stroking the fragile skin. Your eyes darted to his face, wanting to feel more. 

"Yes, do it, please," you whimpered.

With caution, Spencer brought his other hand over so that it could join the other one around your neck.

"Y/N, if I do this, I need you know the signal to safe word." He groaned again, trying to keep his voice clear. "If you can't talk, I need another way to know when you're at your limit," he explained, panting in between words. "If you ever can't talk, or your mouth is covered, I want you to take two fingers and tap me, like this," he drummed two fingers against your neck twice. Each tap was distinct and firm. "If you do that, I'll stop. Just tap me anywhere, like that, and I'll stop," he rasped.

"I will. Please, Daddy, I want you to," your voice was full of need, and the name slipped past your lips without thought.

He moaned again, this one throaty and deep. His thrusts were still fast and hard, each one bringing you closer to the peak. His hands wrapped themselves around the sides of your neck and applied light pressure, sensing the waters. You moaned at the light squeeze. Your body was vulnerable and under his control.

His grip tightened, and he watched your face for any sign of distress. When he found none, he tightened all the way, and your eyes rolled back in contentment. 

His cock twitched as he watched your reaction, and you responded in kind, squeezing your walls around him. 

"When I tell you to, I want you to cum." He moaned.

Spencer's pace was still strong and quick, and from the throbbing between your thighs, and the light, airy feeling in your head, you were close to coming undone.

"Yes, Daddy," you choked out.

Spencer's cock twitched again, and after a few more thrusts, his hips jerked, breaking the rhythm he had set. After a few deep thrusts, he had neared his end, too.

"Cum now." He groaned.

Relief spread through you as your walls pulsated around him and euphoria spread through your body once more. Spencer followed directly after you, releasing his load inside of you. The warm, sticky feeling of his cum shooting up inside of you.

He sloppily thrust into you, milking his cock so that every last bit spilled out. His hands loosened around your neck, letting the blood flow again. When he finally pulled out of you, you moaned at the loss of contact.

His cum ran down your walls, threatening to escape. You clenched your pussy in an attempt to keep his cum inside of you.

Spencer sighed, catching his breath and wiping the small sheen of sweat from his brow. He hovered over you for a few seconds, before he tugged his pants back up and climbed off the bed. He walked around one side to undo your arm from the rope. On his way by, he brushed a hand along your jaw.

"You did so good," he cooed, "So good."

He loosened the rope, cradling your wrist as he slipped it out, and placed it by your side, rubbing the skin softy. You looked over at him with big doe eyes, letting his praise melt into you. His gaze softened, and he tenderly ran his fingers through your hair.

Spencer went around to the other side to free your other arm and he placed it on the bed gently. 

"I'm going to get the stuff to clean you up, okay? I'll be right back." 

You heard him leave the room, and you brought your knees up to your chest, rolling over to lay on your side. You curled up, feeling the cool air in the room now that you were alone.

Your pussy was covered in both of your arousals, but the feeling was comforting; it was warm. It pleased you on to feel Spencer's cum lazily seep out of you, no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. You brought a hand down to your core, shaking your wrist to get used to the feeling without the rope, and then tucked it between your thighs, gathering the creaminess that was there.

After collecting some of it on your fingers, you brought your hand to your lips, sucking on them to taste the mixed arousal. It was a heady combination; sweet and savoury, almost intoxicating.

Spencer came back into the room as you were pulling your fingers out of your mouth. He watched you place your hand back down on the mattress, but when you looked at his face you only saw a fond smile. 

He placed a small tray on the nightstand and then bent down so that he was at eye level with you. "How do you feel?" He murmured.

You blew out a peaceful sigh, "I feel amazing."

A dimpled smile formed on his cheeks. "Good, I'm glad you do."

He reached over to grab your bottom arm, using both hands to massage the skin there. From the tray he grabbed a container of aloe. 

Spencer put a small amount on his fingers and rubbed both hands together so that a thin layer was spread over his fingers. He carefully worked over your wrist, supporting your hand as he soothed the chaffed skin. There were faint pink marks around each wrist from when you had pulled on the restraints, but it wasn't enough that it would be visible tomorrow.

When he was done with that wrist, he tended to the other, letting the cool aloe work at the indentations.

"This doesn't hurt too bad?"

"No, don't worry, it's not bad. It'll be gone by the morning, I'm sure."

Once your wrists were done, he moved to sit at the foot of the bed, massaging your ankles. The markings around them weren't quite as defined as the ones on your arms, but it still felt good to have them treated with the same care.

Spencer stood to grab the washcloth, returning to the side of the bed and waited for you to open your legs so that he could clean up the mess. You spread them half-heartedly, while still lying on your side. 

He ran the cloth over the insides of your thighs first, and you were pleasantly surprised at how warm the cloth was. He cleaned in between your folds, and you felt the remaining stickiness wash away. 

After you were cleaned up, Spencer moved to help you into a seated position so that your back rested against the pillows.

He sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for you to sit next to him. Meekly, you moved to sit next to his thigh.

Spencer angled your back so that it was turned into his chest, and he began untying the rope that was still around your torso. As he weaved the strands underneath each other, you felt the harness loosen, until the rope fell from your body. 

Spencer gathered the rope from your lap and lifted the jumble of nylon over your head, and then he dropped the bundle to the floor. 

He moved your hair to lay over one shoulder, and then you felt his fingers gently rub more aloe over the sore parts of your next from where he had choked you. His movements were calculated, never massaging one spot for too long, but still easing out the tender skin with concern. You sighed, pushing your shoulders back to stretch out the tense muscles. When Spencer was done, he ran his palms over your shoulders, giving them a light pat and squeeze to let you know he was done.

"Would you like to shower? You're welcome to use my bathroom to clean up if you want to."

"That's okay, but thank you," you didn't want to use the energy. "I could really use my t-shirt, though." 

"Yeah, of course." Spencer got up to grab the t-shirt and a pair of panties from your bag and brought them back to you. He helped you slip the shirt over your head, and then handed you your underwear. While you slid them on, Spencer grabbed the glass of water that was on the tray, nudging it closer to you so that it was within reach.

After you were semi-dressed, you turned your body to lean against the pillows while you drank from the glass.

"Can I get you something to eat?"

"You know what, I could go for a snack," you admitted. A wave fatigue washed over you. You pulled your legs up onto the bed so that they could stretch out in front of you.

"Yeah, I'll be right back," he said, and got up to go to the kitchen. You let your eyelids close while he was gone. 

The sound of Spencer approaching caused you to open your eyes. He came in the doorway holding a little plate with apple slices on it. 

"Sorry," he smiled shyly, "I didn't know-"

"No, Spencer, that's perfect, I appreciate it," you told him, sitting up further to take the plate from him. He looked more at ease after that, and then motioned to his half-clothed body.

"Okay, I'm going to-" he walked over to his closet to grab a clean pair of clothes. On his way to the bathroom, he bent down to pick up the pieces of rope that were scattered around the floor. Scooping everything into his arms, he left the room to change.

You enjoyed your snack while he was gone, staring at the ceiling fan and absentmindedly playing with the hem of your t-shirt. 

When Spencer returned, he was dressed in sweats and a black t-shirt. He crossed the room to the other side of the bed, and then propped himself up to sit next to you, crossing his ankles in front of him. 

He brushed his hands over his forehead, trying to keep the curly front pieces out of his eyes, but the hair fell back in place not long after. He had his own glass of water on his side of the bed, and he toyed with it, running his fingers over the condensation. You watched as he drew small patterns through the water droplets. 

"Do you feel a bit better now?" You turned to face him, giving him a hopeful look.

He chuckled, "Yeah I suppose I do," Spencer reached over to set his glass back on the nightstand. "Thank you again for coming, Y/N. You can stay as long as you like, you know. I don't want you to rush off again. You look tired."

His words made you feel a bit guilty. That wasn't what you had tried to do last time, but it had apparently come off that way. 

"It was my pleasure, really. That's what we're doing this for." 

The thought of asking him what had made him so stressed today passed your mind again, but you didn't want to make it uncomfortable now. So, you held your tongue.

He hummed, twirling the gold ring on his pinky finger. "Speaking of playing, we've got to get some toys soon. I want options when I play with you."

He was right. The sex so far had been lacking in the toy department, and that was where a lot of the fun came from. And it would be odd to use any toys he had, if they had been used by someone else.

"That's true, we need to, sometime." A little grin formed on your lips as you looked at him. Your big eyes showed a trace of amusement.

"We will. I'll let you know when."

After that, neither of you said more. The two of you just laid back against his pillows, letting yourselves rest. The silence in the room was tranquil, only being broken by the occasional passing car or noise from another apartment. 

As you laid on his bed, you reached over into your bag, searching for your phone. While you scrolled through apps, Spencer had shut his eyes next to you.

Nearly 30 minutes had passed, and Spencer's breathing had become softer. He looked more relaxed than he had been all night; all of the lines in his forehead were gone and the bags under his eyes didn't seem as dark.

You had grown tired of your phone, opting instead to stare back up at the ceiling when the ring of a cellphone broke the quietness of the room. 

Your eyes snapped to the direction of the sound. Spencer was wide awake now, sitting straight up as he leaned over to grab his phone from the table beside him. With a glance at the screen, he sighed.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this."

You whispered a quick reassurance to him, watching him stand up and hold the phone to his ear.

"Emily," he answered, walking out of the room.

Emily? You were fairly certain that he wasn't talking about a girlfriend - after all he was the one who had wanted to keep things exclusive, but it was hard not to wonder who else he had in his circle when you two had barely shared the details of your personal lives with each other.

Swinging your legs over the bed, you adjusted your hair, pulling in into a messy ponytail, and dug out the pair of pants from your bag, sliding them on. You couldn't hear the conversation, but you could tell it was urgent from the tone. Spencer's answers were brief.

You turned to the tray on the nightstand trying to put everything back on it in an orderly way, and then sat on the edge of the bed for Spencer to finish. You heard him say that he would be on his way, and then he came back into the bedroom with a sad expression on his face. 

"Y/N, I'm sorry, that was work. We have a case."

The conversation made sense, now. Spencer didn't work regular hours like you, and crime was always happening. 

"Don't worry about it, I can be out of here."

"I don't want to force you out, Y/N. I need to change before I go in, and you're free to wait here a little longer if you need to."

You tugged on a pair of socks while he went to grab something different to wear. You heard him quickly undress behind you. When he was finished, he came to stand in front of your seated form with a bag strapped across his shoulders.

"Hey. The case is in Chicago, and our flight is leaving in the next hour. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, and that's what makes this job difficult when trying to have a relationship," he apologized. "But while I'm gone, I'd still like to try and play, even though we aren't in person."

You looked up at him, curious, and he waved the phone in his hand in explanation. Catching on, you narrowed your eyes at him.

"You want to do it over the phone?"

"Not necessarily," he smiled, "but I will be calling you. And I'll expect you to follow my instructions."

You stood up to match Spencer in an attempt at looking mischievous, but you were a good foot shorter than him, and it fell through.

"Follow your instructions," you blew a light breath out of your nose, "while you're several states away. And what if I don't?" You questioned.

"Then I'll punish you," he stated, using his hand to hold your chin so that you were looking up at him. There was a glimmer of desire there, just under the surface.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Daddy." You knew that would get him going, and he was soon going to be several hundred miles away. 

Spencer's thumb moved to brush over your chin. His voice was low, "You'll see just how much fun it'll be, Bambi. I can be mean when I want to," he warned.

Proud of the proposition you had created, you blinked your big eyes at him, smirking. Spencer reached down to give your butt a soft smack.

"Keep your phone with you," he ordered. Gentler, he added, "And call me if you need me." 

You nodded.

All of your belongings had been collected and you slung your own bag over your shoulder. Together, the two of you made your way out of his apartment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Remember to drink lots of water and please take care of yourselves. I love you more than you know! x babyleaf


	7. The Edge is a Hard Place to Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Spencer is away on a case, you learn what he meant when he asked you to keep your phone on you. The thing is, you're not very good at following his directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: masturbation (female), spit as lube, sexting.
> 
> Please let me know in the comments if I missed any triggers, and I'll gladly fix the TW!

After turning off your alarm, the first thing you saw was a text from Spencer.

 **Spencer:** Good morning, Y/N, I hope the rest of your night went well, and I'm sorry work cut it short. I hope you remember what I said about keeping your phone on you...   
I'm going to be messaging you with tasks I'd like you to complete this week. We'll start when you wake up - let me know when you see this.

You stared at the message for several seconds. What kind of tasks was he going to make you do? When James was out of state, you two hadn't done anything like this; you simply resumed playing when he returned.

Because you had to get ready for work, you ignored his request to text him. This morning's weather seemed like it was going be a rainy day, and you'd have to take your car. Although that meant your ride to work would be shorter than walking, it also meant that you'd have to plan for the traffic, and DC roads were horrendous during rush hour.

If you wanted to make it to work at a reasonable time, you had to start moving. Swinging your legs out of bed, you headed straight for the shower.

The gentle spray of the water eased you out of your sleepy state. After washing your hair and body, it was hard to find the will to leave the warm shower, but you knew better than to waste what precious time you had. With a yelp of disgust, you yanked aside the shower curtain, and felt the bite of the cold air.

You stepped out quickly, reaching over to grab the towel so you could shield your body from the cold. Before it was fully wrapped around you, though, you examined your frame in the mirror. Your wrists showed no sign of being tied, just like you'd suspected. Looking down at your ankles, you also saw no evidence from last night's activities on them.

What did catch your eye was the faint lines around your neck. They weren't very pronounced, but they were there. You lifted your hair so you could get a better look. Thin blue lines wrapped around the sides of your neck, finished off by light circles at the front and back - two for his thumbs and eight more where his fingers had been.

Any soreness from being choked was gone and was replaced by these marks. You turned your cheek, exposing the left side of your neck, and you felt a wave of disappointment. There weren't any marks from where Spencer had kissed you, even though his teeth had grazed your neck, and his lips had sucked at the thin skin.

While some people would happy that there wasn't much bruising, minus the ones from the choking, it made the corners of your lips turn down. You wanted something more to look at; something for you to remember the way you'd felt last night. You just hoped to see more traces of what Spencer had done to you.

In reality, Spencer probably hadn't intended to leave any bruising at all. He was considerate when it came to work and the lines around your neck weren't exactly easy to hide. It definitely would limit your outfit choice today, but you found yourself not caring. It was a small price to pay in comparison to the pleasure they had brought.

After combing through your hair, you blow-dried it until it was damp. With the towel still wrapped around you, you returned to your bedroom and picked out your clothes for work: dark jeans and a turtleneck to hide the marks from last night.

Once you were dressed, you made your way back into the bathroom to do your makeup. As you completed the final touches, your heart dropped when you noticed the time. If you weren't going to be late, you only had 10 minutes left before you had to leave.

Running back to your room, you threw your phone into your bag and then raced to the kitchen to get a lunch ready for the day. You rejoiced at the sight of leftovers in the fridge and grabbed a container to pack them into. The water bottle you took to work was on the counter, and you filled it as fast as you could before shoving both things into your lunchbox.

Because the time had escaped you, and the only thing easy enough to eat for breakfast was toast, you multitasked. While the bread was in the toaster, you filled a travel mug with coffee. You were screwing the lid on when the toast popped, and you rushed to prepare it. Slice in hand, and your coffee in the other, you left your apartment.

The rain had started now, and the walk to your car was hurried. Unlocking the door was made complicated by everything in your hands, and you realized you'd have to set the coffee on the roof of the car so you could get in.

With a sigh, you set it there, hoping it wouldn't get too wet while you got your things situated in the passenger seat. Before you put on your seatbelt, you climbed out of the car to retrieve your coffee and shoved the cup into the cupholder. The inside of the driver's side door was now covered in rain, and your jeans were all spotty with droplets. The front pieces of your hair were stuck to your face, too.

Even though this type of weather made people grimace, you loved it, despite your current state. Everything smelled better in the rain. It brought out flowers and kept the grass green. If you were lucky, it would still be raining when you went to bed, and the thought of falling asleep to the sound of raindrops made you wish this would be true.

You swung the door shut, buckled yourself in, and started the car. You plugged your phone into the system and let the music play as you settled in for a long ride to work.

* * *

Your shift had started as soon as you walked in. From your flustered appearance, Martha could tell that this morning had been one of those days. You dipped your head to her by way of apology and went to the staff room to get ready for you shift.

Once your things were inside your cubby, you threw peeked at your hair in the mirror, trying to get some of the dampness out of it before going out front.

Martha was leaning against the counter, and a small smirk graced her pretty features. You gave her a sheepish smile, walking over to chat with her - you knew she wanted to hear about how things were going with Spencer. When you were close enough to hear her talk at quiet volume, she pressed her palms together and raised her brows.

"So! How've you been? How's it with Spencer?" she squealed.

You blushed at her excitement. "It's been good," you mumbled, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"That's it? Just good? That's all you're gonna say?"

You sighed, looking her in the eyes. "Well, okay, better than good. It's been great _so far_ but we haven't really done a lot - you know we've only seen each other twice, right? So it's still early to tell." Her grin only got wider as you spoke. 

"Good, I'm happy for you. Are you seeing him tonight?"

"No, he's away for work in Chicago right now. He had to leave quickly last night, and he isn't sure when he will be back." You glanced towards the chime of the door - a few elderly ladies had just walked in. You and Martha called to them in greeting, and then you continued.

"Okay, but he did say that he still wanted to play while he was gone, I just don't know what he's planning yet."

"Woah, okay, I didn't know you could do that," she walked closer to the ladies, arranging some of the shirts on the rack so they were tidier.

You chuckled, "Yeah, it is for some, but I never did anything like that when James used to leave."

You left your spot at the counter to go see if any of the ladies needed help. As you approached them, one of them turned to you, holding up a black purse.

"Hello, dear, you wouldn't happen to have this in brown, would you?"

You glanced at bag. "I'm sorry, what you see there is all we currently have. But we do have a brown purse in a similar style over here, if you want to follow me."

"Alright dear, that would be lovely." She trailed behind you as you held up a similar purse for her, pointing out its key features. While the lady examined that bag you lingered, waiting to see what she would think.

"You know, I think this one is really quite nice. I'm going to keep looking with the girls, but could you hold onto it for me?"

"Sure thing, I'll have it up at the counter for you when you're ready." As you were taking the bag from her, her friend approached you with another question.

You spent the first part of your shift helping them around the store, chatting about the weather, and giving advice on certain pieces. After that, more customers had filed in and your help became divided further. In between customers, you spent the time cleaning up after them.

When your lunch break came around, you were ready for it. It was the first chance you had so far to yourself. While you ducked out back, you reached into your pocket pulling out your phone. There were no new messages except for the one from Spencer that you still hadn't replied to.

You sat down in the seating area, reading it once more before your thumbs hovered above the keyboard. Nearly 4 hours had passed since you opened his text and a pang of guilt hit you as you typed out an apology.

 **Y/N:** Hey, I'm so sorry for not replying sooner. I was in a rush this morning and I'm just on my lunch now

As the message sent you wondered how Spencer would react to your excuse. It was an honest one, but still, you had deliberately ignored his request.

You were about to close the app when you saw the three dots dance in the bottom corner of the screen. Worry flooded through you while he typed.

 **Spencer:** I see. We'll count that as your first strike. You're at work then?

Your first strike? Yeah, you felt bad for not answering him, but you weren't aware you'd be punished for it - it was only a text in the grand scheme of things. You had yet to wander into that territory with Spencer, but it couldn't be too bad. It actually sent a small thrill through your body, thinking about what he would do when he punished you.

 **Y/N:** A strike? I didn't know that was grounds for punishment. And I'm at work until 5, my time

His response was immediate.

 **Spencer:** When you don't listen, it is. Go take off your panties.

Your mouth fell open.

 **Y/N:** I'm at work 

**Spencer:** I know. This would have been avoided, though, if you had listened to me in the first place. Now go take them off.

You sat there thinking about it. You _did_ have pants on, so it wasn't like anyone would know. And you did _want_ to please him. The more you thought about it, the sexier it became. So you got up to go to the bathroom.

After locking the door, you stepped out of your boots and pulled your jeans off. Before you reconsidered it, you slid your panties down your legs, stepping out of them too. You held them up to examine them - they were wet.

You put back on your jeans and boots and then stuffed the underwear into your pocket. When you got back to the staff room, you texted Spencer to tell him you had done it.

 **Spencer:** Smart girl. Send me a picture, please.

You blinked a few times, and then glanced at the door. You could hear Martha out front, chatting with some customers. Pulling the panties out of your pocket, you laid them in your lap and then snapped a picture of the silky garment. Then you stuffed them back in your pocket and sent the picture to Spencer.

Acting as if this was an everyday thing, you ate your lunch while you waited for a reply. After a few minutes your phone buzzed.

 **Spencer:** Fuck, Y/N. You don't know what you do to me. I wish I could play with you right now. I need to get back to the case, but I'll call you tonight - and don't keep me waiting next time.

You texted him back.

 **Y/N:** Yes Sir

When you went back out on the floor, the only thing you could think about was the continuous feeling of your jeans rubbing up against you. Every step, you felt the fabric brush over your folds, and you were reminded about the fact that your panties were now sitting in your bag for safe keeping, and no one else was the wiser.

By the time 5 hit, you couldn't wait to go home. Sylvia arrived for her shift a couple hours before yours was over and as you were leaving you signalled to Martha that you'd text her later.

The drive home was just as rainy as it had been on the way in. However, it was even busier than it had been this morning, and as you waited at a traffic light, your mind drifted to the possibilities of what this evening's conversation with Spencer would entail.

The passing cars came in quick succession, a blur of orange lights through the rain. Your wipers pushed the rain off of the windshield, only to do it again seconds later. The sound of the droplets hitting the roof of your car made you fall in love with the rainy weather all over again.

Finally, the car in front of you began crawling forward, and you inched along behind it.

* * *

When you let yourself into your apartment, you were surprised at the state of it - it was a mess. You could have sworn it hadn't been this bad when you left for work, but the sight in front of you was clearly your doing.

There were crumbs all over the countertop, and the dirty butter knife was lying amidst the crumbs. You cursed at yourself for leaving the light on, too. You tugged off your boots and then made your way to your bedroom. It was a mess in there, too.

Your bed was a mess of sheets and the empty hangers had been dropped on the floor next to your closet. You slid your bag from your shoulders and threw it onto your bed, and then went back to the kitchen to make dinner.

As it cooked, you cleaned up the counter from this morning, and then fixed your room so that it was in a better state. You replaced your work clothes for a baggy t-shit and sweats. From your bag, you pulled out your panties and went to throw them into the laundry basket in your bathroom.

The mess has spread in here, as well. Your makeup was strung out over the counter, and the towel you had used as a temporary bath mat was crumpled beside your shower. Your pyjamas were littered around the tiny bathroom floor, carelessly kicked aside in your wake.

As you picked up after yourself, you chided yourself for leaving almost every room a mess. Your pyjamas were thrown into the hamper, followed by the still-damp towel. You unplugged the hairdryer, stuffing back into its proper drawer, and then gathered the various makeup products, putting them into your makeup bag.

When the oven timer went off, you went back to the kitchen, hungry and ready to eat.

It wasn't until you finished dinner and were sitting on top of your bed when your phone screen morphed to show an incoming call. As promised, it was Spencer.

You slid the bar over to answer it and brought the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Bambi," he answered. His voice was low, and the usual softness that was there when you weren't playing wasn't present. You swallowed.

"Sir."

"We need to talk about t-"

"Listen, I'm sorry, it was just a busy morning and I didn't have the time to reply. As soon as I woke up I was getting ready for work, and the time slipped away from me. And then I drove to work and couldn't text you while driving. While I was at work I couldn't find time to myself until I went on break, otherwise I would have texted you sooner. It won't happen again, I promise." You rambled.

There were a few beats of silence on the other end, and then finally, he spoke.

"We need to talk about this week, Bambi; what I want to do with you. Or rather, what I want you to do for me," he explained. "And don't interrupt me again, or I'll add another strike to the list."

You shut your eyes in embarrassment. "Oh."

"Tomorrow, and every day after that until I'm back, I want you to send me a picture of the panties you're wearing. Can you do that?" 

It seemed easy enough. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl." You could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "Additionally, you're not going to touch yourself while I'm gone, alright?"

You scrunched your nose up at his words. "What do you mean?" 

"Let me rephrase, that wasn't entirely true. I mean you aren't allowed to cum while I'm gone."

So you could touch yourself, then. But you weren't allowed to orgasm?

"Are you serious?" Your voice raised in pitch as you spoke. "Why?"

He spoke just above a whisper. "Because Bambi. I get to decide when you cum, and your pussy belongs to me, now. And if you can listen to me, I'll reward you when I get home."

His words made a jolt of electricity travel straight to your core. _Your pussy was his_ , as he put it.

"Spencer, you don't even know when you'll be back," you reasoned. "And how will you know whether I'm touching myself or not?"

"I know," he told you. "And you will be touching yourself. Plenty. I'm going to call you each night if I can, and then I'm going to listen to you while you touch yourself. I want you to bring yourself closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm, and then you're going to stop." His voice was still quiet, but it was full of authority. You shivered. 

"Why?" You repeated. You could see the power behind not letting you cum, but for him to want you to edge yourself? It seemed trick, but that was definitely the point.

"Consider it an exercise in self-control. It's difficult to do, but I'd like for you to try. And to answer your other question, I know I won't truly know whether or not you're listening, but I'm giving you my trust. Does this sound good?"

You hadn't ever edged yourself before, not to mention at the request of another person who would be listening. Truthfully, you didn't know if you could stop yourself, once the climax was in sight. But Spencer wanted you to _try_ , and you could do that.

"...Okay. We'll try it."

"Good," he praised. "You'll start now, then."

It took you a second to piece his words together. 

"Now? Aren't you at work?" Your voice was laced with apprehension. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand, you saw that it was almost 8pm. This meant it was nearly 7 in Chicago. But assuming they were trying to catch a killer, his team would have to work around the clock, especially if they wanted to try and get ahead.

"No, actually I'm in a hotel. We haven't found any useful leads yet, and everyone is burnt out. So, please," he persuaded, "I want to hear you now."

"Are you alone?" You questioned.

"Yes, Sweetheart, and I've thought about _you and_ _those panties_ all day. You know it's rude to keep someone waiting."

Your walls throbbed at his admission. From your silence, his voice became softer. "You know the safe word, if you really don't want to do this."

But you did, and you wanted to show Spencer that you could be a good girl for him. "No, I'll do it."

You scooted your hips down the bed so that you could lie on your back, and then hit the speaker button. Placing your phone on the comforter beside your head, you slid a tentative hand in-between your sweats and panties.

First you cupped yourself, feeling the evidence of your arousal through your panties already. Rubbing two fingers over your clit slowly, you were surprised at how responsive you were. Your hips pressed yourself further against your fingertips, and you let out a shaky sigh.

"Tell me what you're doing, Y/N." 

You slid your hand up to the hem of your panties, before letting your fingers sink underneath the fabric, going straight for the bundle of nerves. You swirled your fingers around your clit a few times, and then let them wander lower, in between your folds to gather the wetness there.

You sighed again, "I'm so wet."

Spencer's exhale was noticeably louder, and seemingly laboured. 

When your fingers were coated, you traced them back over your lips and then up to the nub, rubbing harder circles around the edge. Your breath was becoming louder, matching the way Spencer's sounded.

"Tell me what you're doing," he repeated.

You tilted your hips, finding a new angle where the feeling inside you would hit you deepest. "I'm just-" you gasped, "-playing with my clit." 

The pressure inside of you was stronger now, building rapidly. You increased your pace, arching your back, while maintaining tight, fast circles. You could hear Spencer's low groan. 

It enticed you, and you trailed your other hand underneath your t-shirt, along the smooth skin of your belly up to your breast. When your hand reached your breasts, you palmed one, feeling your nipple grow hard. You slid your hand to the other one, teasing your nipple with a feather--light touch. It pebbled beneath your fingertips, and another wave of euphoria rolled through your body, going straight to your core. You moaned.

"My nipples are so hard," you rasped, "Fuck! I don't want to stop." You were on the brink of orgasming, and you couldn't find the strength to draw your hand away. "What if I don't stop," you whimpered.

"Y/N." His voice was firm, bringing you back to reality. "You _will_ stop."

But you didn't want to. 

Your fingers continued their fast assault over your clit, and you bucked your hips a final time, letting the wave crash into you. Your pussy clenched again and again as you made yourself come. Your breath was fragmented, coming out in high-pitched moans as you felt the bliss cloud your vision.

Your legs shook around the hand that was still pressed into your centre, while you rode out your orgasm. 

There wasn't a sound from the phone next to you. You could no longer hear Spencer's breathing, and you wondered if he had hung up. Rolling over to your side, you hastily wiped your fingers on the front of your shirt, and then picked up your phone, turning the screen towards you. 

It was still connected.

The post-orgasm bliss was drained from you as the guilt seeped in. "Spencer?" 

You heard him inhale, and when he spoke, he showed careful restraint at keeping his voice void of emotion. "You weren't supposed to cum."

Obviously. But it was clear to you that edging yourself wasn't something you would do easily. "I know... I'm sorry. I just- I couldn't- I didn't have it in me to stop. I'm sorry." 

"Stop saying you're sorry," he responded. "Like I told you, it _is_ hard, and that's why I want you to practice it. We'll try again tomorrow night."

Your heart sank at the dismissed apology. 

"Are you mad at me?" You asked. Your voice was small.

Sensing your worry, Spencer sighed on the other end, "I'm not mad." His tone was gentle, "You tried, and that's all I can ask right now. So no, I'm not mad at you, but I'm counting on you to try again." You waited to see what the consequence would be. "And if you continue to disregard my rules, you will be punished for it. Don't think I've forgotten about your little stunt this morning."

That should have pushed you to listen. But again, the thought of being punished by Spencer piqued your interest enough to dismiss the consequences of your actions, both past and future. Either way, it meant you got to play with him, and pain was often accompanied by pleasure.

"Okay," your worry had now vanished. "I understand."

There was a faint creaking noise in the noise in the background of Spencer's hotel room, and his tone abruptly changed as he began to dismiss himself. You guessed he wasn't alone anymore.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright, talk to you tomorrow. Be safe, please," you told him.

"I will. Goodbye."

You ended the call, thinking about who he was hiding you from. Did he look as intoxicated as you had felt? The thought made you smile. Despite being states away, he still had quite the effect over you.

* * *

The next morning you were well-prepared to see Spencer's text message asking to see the panties you were going to be wearing. You even woke up earlier than normal to make sure you had time to text him.

You chose a skimpy pair, laying them out on the foot of the bed, before taking a picture and hitting send. You began getting dressed when your phone vibrated.

 **Spencer:** Put them on for me. 

You didn't have much reluctance about sending something like this, not if it was to Spencer. He was already careful about keeping this relationship secret, and you trusted him.

You stripped off your pyjamas and then stepped into the underwear. They were flattering even though they left little to the imagination. You shrugged a blouse on over your shoulders, letting it fall open to reveal your shoulder, and then stood in front of the full-length cheval mirror in the corner. Turning slightly, you bent one knee and then took the picture. 

You attached the photo and hit send, going back to your closet.

 **Spencer:** God, do you know how bad I want to fuck you in those? 

The message gave you butterflies. As you sifted through the rack with your pants, another text distracted you. 

**Spencer:** Wear a skirt with that outfit. 

A skirt would definitely be risky. Your panties barely covered you and you didn't own anything that went below your mid-thigh. Looking out your bedroom window, you could already tell the day would be sunny; traces of yesterday's rain were nowhere in sight. The weather was working in your favour.

All you had to do was be careful if you bent down, and it'd be fine.

You chose a black skirt with a small slit on the thigh, and then layered a crewneck over top of your blouse. Once your socks were pulled on, you got up to take another picture for Spencer. This time you knelt in front of the mirror, parting your legs and giving him your best attempt at seeming innocent.

His reply sent heat through your body. You had him right where you wanted him.

 **Spencer:** Jesus, Y/N. If only people knew what a little slut you were behind those doe eyes.

You fired a text back to him with just as much spite.

 **Y/N:** Do you want me to let them find out, Daddy?

His response came seconds after you hit send.

 **Spencer:** You're mine now, don't forget that. And I don't share, Sweetheart.

You didn't want to be anyone else's, anyway.

* * *

That night after you walked home from work, you took your time making dinner. It had been a long day at the store. Martha was gone, so you spent most of your shift with the other girls. All you could think about was Spencer calling you his, and how he wanted you to be sure of it.

Now that you were alone, you needed a new distraction. You plugged your phone into the outlet in the kitchen and played music while you cooked.

After dinner you were restless; there wasn't any way to know when he'd call, and you found yourself pathetically wandering around the house. 

When 9pm came around, you decided to switch into pyjamas. You still hadn't heard from Spencer and although you wanted to tell him you kept the outfit on for him, you were more than ready to be comfortable. 

You stepped out of your underwear and skirt in one swift movement and opted for a pair of soft shorts. Your upper half was soon clad in a new t-shirt, and you pulled your sweater back on overtop. 

You tucked yourself in on one corner of the couch and flicked through various Netflix movies, unable to settle on anything. All you wanted was to keep your mind busy while the time passed. 

When he eventually called, it was past 10 and you were in the middle of a movie. At the image of his name on the screen, you leapt up, pushing the blanket in your lap to the side, and sprinted to the bedroom.

You sat on the edge of the bed and accepted the call.

"You kept me waiting for your call," you said.

"Doesn't feel nice, does it?"

Was that what this was about? It seemed immature and you'd last expect Spencer to act like this.

"Is that why you waited?"

"No," He was quick to shut the theory down. "We just got back to the hotel, that's all. But now you know what it feels like to wait for something you _want_ , Bambi."

"How do you know it's something that I want? What I really want is to cum, but you don't want that to happen." 

"You're right, I don't. But I know it turns you on to have me listen to you. And I know you thought about doing this for me all day," he boasted.

You had, that was true. And the thought of him listening to you while you pleasured yourself also turned you on. It was nice hearing the way he reacted to you, too. But instead of admitting it, you teased him back. Two could play at this game.

"Mhm, you know I might have to cum again, just to make you mad. And you can't do a single thing about it."

"No, I can't stop you," he agreed, "but I've already told you that you're going to get punished should you decide to cum again."

"I know," you smiled. You swung your legs up onto the bed, sliding down the covers until you were lying on your back. The phone was still held to your ear.

"Are you saying you're not going to be a good girl for me?" 

"Maybe. You'll just have to see, Daddy." You breathed.

Spencer's moan was just above whisper.

You pressed the speaker button, putting the phone next to you. You were about to slide your shorts down when Spencer spoke.

"Are you lying on your back?" 

"Yeah," you answered, "why?"

"Turn around this time."

You kicked your shorts off and flipped yourself over so that you were on your belly. Your cheek was pressed into the mattress and you pulled your knees up to give your hands space to sneak beneath you. Your voice came out deeper from the position of your throat, "Okay."

When your fingers brushed over your core, you were more sensitive than usual.

"Why do you want me like this?"

"If you're not going to listen regardless, I'll make it harder for you to stop. The added weight and pressure against your clit will intensify your orgasm. And if you try to cum, I'm going to make you do it the way I want."

You hummed at his words, bringing your hand up to your lips and letting a bubble of spit fall on your fingers to lubricate them. Then you slid them back underneath you, letting the wetness coat your clit. You started to swirl your fingers around, and the sensation was instantly greater. A surprised gasp escaped your lips. 

Wiggling your hips for more friction, you applied more pressure to your fingertips, choking out a whimper as the familiar surge of excitement built inside of you. When the spit disappeared from your fingers, you dipped them inside of you making them wet with arousal.

You let your legs relax, causing more of your body weight hold your hand down against you. The pressure swelled while you frantically circled your clit, bringing yourself closer to the edge. Your breath was coming out in pants.

"You sound so good when you can barely catch your breath, Bambi."

You groaned, keeping your movements fast and sloppy. The slickness between your thighs was apparent, creating soft, wet sounds. Spencer cursed at the noises; his voice was strained, and he was now breathing through his mouth.

You whimpered against the sheets again, full of ecstasy as the ripple reached a higher peak. If you didn't stop now, you weren't going to.

"Y/N," he warned.

You invited the wave closer, until you couldn't hold it back any longer. 

"I can't," you breathed, and suddenly the tension was broken, and you felt the high spill throughout your body. "Fuck!" You cried out, feeling your walls throb as more arousal dripped out of you, and your legs went limp. You struggled to breathe normally, fighting for air as your body recovered. 

From your phone speaker, you could still hear Spencer's pants. A few more seconds passed and then you heard his strangled moan along with the distinct sound of his own release. Your pussy tightened as if it had happened inside of you.

You moaned in contentment, shutting your eyes. The two of you stayed silent, only letting your staggered breaths pass between you.

When your breathing returned to its normal rate, you rolled onto your back once more. "You know, if I'm not allowed to come, you really shouldn't encourage me like that."

He chuckled briefly. "I know, but where's the fun in that." 

You remained quiet, comforted by the sound of his breath through the phone.

"Did you even think about stopping this time?" There was a hint of satisfaction buried underneath the smugness. Heat rose to your cheeks as you smirked.

"Does it matter?"

"That confirms it, then. I'd say you want to be punished."

You pulled yourself up into a seated position. "If you said that, you'd be right." You tugged the corner of your comforter down, crawling beneath the sheets. After you were settled, you retrieved your phone, lying it in your lap.

"You've been a bad girl, Y/N. Does it excite you when you think about what I'm going to do to you?"

'Yes," you whispered.

"It shouldn't," he said. "It's not going to be nice for you."

Maybe. Maybe not. You wanted to see how he acted when he was mad, and it thrilled you to wonder what he was going to do to you.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep those panties for me. Don't wash them, I want them exactly as they are."

You glanced down at the floor where you had left them. "Whatever you want," you told him. 

"Careful, Y/N. I can be very demanding sometimes, and I always get what I want."

The wave of excitement made your stomach flip. You and Spencer talked for a few more minutes, until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. Eventually, You said your goodbyes to each other before hanging up.

That night when you fell asleep, you hoped Spencer was prepared to see you fail again. If he wanted to edge you, he would have to come back to do it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi pals! I hope this wasn't too boring. It felt a little repetitive to me but it's necessary for the next part, and I'm beyond excited for that to come. If no one has told you yet, you matter and you are loved. I'm sending a giant hug to you all.


	8. A Lesson on Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer returns to DC, and he's not too happy with Y/N's choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Possessive!Spencer, Edging, overstimulation that leads to crying, orgasm denial, oral sex (female receiving) fingering, use of a vibrator, humiliation, collaring, light praise, heavy degradation, spanking, face fucking, Daddy kink, aftercare.
> 
> -
> 
> This one is basically just smut!

Of the five days Spencer was gone, you spent all of them bringing yourself to orgasm with only a little bit of guilt over it. Yeah, you'd failed at the orders, and intentionally so, but you liked making him frustrated over it. There wasn't much he could do to force you to listen, and his veiled threats were impelling enough to keep you from behaving.

_"Y/N, I swear, you better take your hands off of my pussy."_

But did you? No. 

You had shamelessly cum, intent on letting him hear every single whimper that fell out of your mouth. Teasing Spencer had quickly become an obsession of sorts. It was an experiment. How many more times would you be able to blatantly disobey him before he snapped?

The following night had been no different. As your fingers worked at you core to bring you over the edge, you made sure he could hear your breathy moans loud and clear. By now his anger was readily at the surface, no longer kept on a tight leash.

_"Was I not clear enough, Bambi? Because I thought I made myself pretty fucking clear. Apparently, you're only good to me when I'm there to make you. You're acting like such a brat, and you're going to regret it, mark my words."_

And on what had been the last night away from you, the fifth time you let yourself orgasm, he finally snapped.

_"I swear, Y/N, when we land tomorrow, you better be ready for me. I don't care if you have plans; you're going to be waiting at your apartment for me, and you're going to see how bad you'll wish you had listened. You see, I only reward good girls, and those who aren't get taught a lesson. And right now, I'm in a teaching mood."_

That was the last thing you'd heard him say before he ended the phone call yesterday evening.

Since that phone call you'd been a little on edge. For the most part, you were smugly anticipating the punishment that was yet to come. But there was still a tiny piece of you that wondered if you had taken it too far, too soon. Whatever the case you had no choice but to find out, as Spencer had said.

It wasn't until early evening the next day that you'd heard from Spencer again. He had skipped past a good morning text, forgoing his usual request to send him any more photos. The silence was unsettling.

That was why you felt your stomach drop when you read the text he'd sent.

 **Spencer:** I'm on my way to come get you. I'll see you in 10 - be ready.

You texted him back, telling him you'd be ready. In your bedroom you, as you hurriedly threw your bag together, a sharp knock at the door startled you. When you ran to get it, you saw Spencer's tall and looming frame through the peephole. He was early.

Cautiously swinging the door open, you stared up at him, suddenly feeling too guilty to speak. You were met with his dark and chiseled face. Faint stubble was peppered across his jaw, and his eyes were dark and wild.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" The innocent question was laced with an emotion you couldn't quite place, but you quickly stumbled aside so he could come in. "You're not going to say hello?"

That pulled you out of your trance. "Hi, Spencer, you're early," you squeaked.

He reached down to cup your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. You could barely hold the eye contact when he spoke again.

"Certain things can't wait, Bambi." When he released your chin, he tilted his wrist to look at his watch, before he dropped his arm at his side.

You took in his clothing as he studied you. Instead of the dress shirt and tie that you'd come to expect him in, he had on a black suit jacket, and the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone revealing the smooth skin of his chest. Your eyes traveled back up to his face and you found him staring at you with the same intensity as before.

"Like I said, certain things can't wait," he repeated. You were about to ask him what things when he turned and headed down the hallway to your bedroom. His fast strides easily outpaced your surprised ones. When he got to your bedroom door, he stood on the threshold, his eyes searching for something.

"Spencer," you questioned, "what are you doing?"

Instead of answering, you watched as his eyes landed in the far corner of your room. He paced forward and you followed after him, watching as he crouched down to pick up the pair of panties from a few days ago, still lying on the floor. Once they were in his hand, he stood back up, turning to face you while using his wrist to bring attention to the piece of fabric in is hands. "I guess you do know how to listen," he scoffed, "you just _like_ to be a brat." His hand closed around the garment and he shoved it into his pants pocket.

You stood in front of him, your body unable to catch up with your thoughts. Spencer noticed, cocking his head slightly before his eyes moved to the mess on your bed where your packing attempt was. He went over and picked up the bag amidst the clothing, then turned to face you. "Is this good to go?"

This time his voice lacked any spite. "Oh, yeah, it is," you told him, finally moving your legs to go and take the bag from him. Spencer waved you off, placing the strap over his shoulder, while his other hand settled on the small of your back.

"Let's go have some fun," he whispered, guiding you out of the room.

* * *

When you arrived at Spencer's apartment, you sat in the car, too afraid to break the silence that had grown during the journey to his place. By far, it wasn't a comfortable silence, that much was true. You wished he would have voiced his anger; anything would've been better than to sit and suffocate in the silence. 

Everything about the car ride had felt dire, and yet Spencer didn't seem to be phased by it. If you had to put a word on it, you'd say the most emotion he'd shown since starting the car was impatience. You'd seen it in the way his palms wrapped around the steering wheel, as he drummed his thumbs over the leather. But now, he was still like you, sitting only a foot away, with his thoughts deep in calculation.

Before you could move your head in his direction, he spoke. "When we get inside my apartment, we'll start."

His words were calm and even - stark in contrast to the thick air around you. You turned to look at him then. "Okay."

Spencer let his eyes search your face, and then he twisted in his chair, reaching across the centre console to put his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

"If it's too much, you know what to say."

"I know I do, but I also feel like I deserve it."

He lifted his fingers slightly, before letting them land back down on your leg. "Let me handle that part," he offered you a shy smile.

Spencer unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled on the handle to let himself out of the car. You followed suit. He swung the backseat door open and gathered both of your bags, and then you followed after him up the stairs and into the lobby.

Once you were on his floor and at his door, Spencer pulled a key out of his pocket and turned the knob, pushing the door open as he did so. The light from the hallway streamed into his dark apartment, but you could tell that things were exactly where he'd left them the last time. He walked in, setting his bag on the nearest table, and then glanced at the doorway, where you had yet to come in.

"Are you really that scared?"

Despite his word choice, his tone lacked any teasing.

"No," you mumbled, picking your legs up and carrying yourself into the room. You walked over to join him where he stood, but Spencer didn't like that answer.

"You know what to call me. No, _what,_ Y/N?"

"No, Sir," you corrected yourself. You knew he saw through your poor attempt of a lie, but he never called you out on it. Perhaps it was for the best. Likely there'd be worse things for you to worry about soon.

Spencer eyed you carefully, taking in every one of the features on your face, then slowly let his eyes roamed down your body. "Strip."

The request was so simple, and yet it still threw you off. You looked up at him, making sure you'd heard him right. His expression showed no ounce of humour. "Right here, or in your room?"

"Here. Now."

Without wasting any more time, you shrugged off your coat, and used your feet to work yourself out of your shoes. You peeled your shirt over your head and let it drop beside you, where it joined the rest of your clothing. Then your hands worked to undo the button on your pants next, and once they were shed you placed them on the floor with everything else.

As you bent down ready to sit on the floor, Spencer halted your movements. "No," he objected, "this time I want you to take everything off."

You straightened yourself just as quickly, removing your undergarments and tossing them aside with the rest. Standing on the edge of his living room, your eyes wandered to the floor, and you felt the smallest you'd ever been. Naked and vulnerable and unsure of what to do next. Spencer stood a few feet from you, staring at your bare frame, pleased at the way you'd so readily obeyed him.

"Look at you. Look at how helpless you are without me telling you exactly what to do."

You just kept your eyes down.

"The way you submit to me so well when I'm here," he came towards you like a lion stalking its prey, "all of that _tossed aside_ so you could play your little game." He stood in front of you now, brushing the hair back from your cheeks so that your face was on full display to him. "I can't have you forgetting who you belong to, Bambi." He put each hand underneath your ears so gently that it made you want to shiver.

Dragging his fingernails along your jawline, he coaxed your head up so that you had to look at him. "I think you need a reminder. Don't you?"

You opened your lips a crack, just enough to tell him, "Yes, Sir."

Spencer's thumb moved to pull your bottom lip down, feeling the delicate skin. And then he dropped his hands and walked over to his bag. You heard the flap fall open and the sound of him pulling something out of it.

His footsteps grew nearer, and you felt his stare work away at you, reducing you to nothing more but a bare, helpless girl.

When he came around in from of you, his hands were behind his back, hiding the object from his bag. As you stared at his knees, he used one hand tilt your chin while the other remained concealed. "This," he said, "means you're mine." The darkness in his eyes made your heart beat faster. Carefully he brought his other hand forward, revealing the item to you.

His fist was closed around a band of pebbled material, but it was obvious what it was. A silver buckle glistened on one end of the strap, and the plain end was peeking through the other end of his hand. Spencer held the collar by the ends now, showing you the small silver ring in the middle of the band which his hand had concealed.

It was a simple collar, not very wide and quite plain compared to some others you'd seen. Nevertheless, it had an elegance about it. You glanced from the collar in his hands to his face, and then back to the collar.

"What do you think? Does this tell you exactly who you belong to?"

You met his eyes again. You wanted to wear it for him, and badly. You wanted some sort of symbol to prove that you were his for your own sick gratification.

At the same time, though, you couldn't help but think of his previous partners and how he might have done the same with them. You wanted to feel special, but the doubt pulled your heart down, decreasing the bubble of privilege within you.

"Answer me."

Your words were barely audible. "Yes, Sir."

Spencer grabbed your chin again, forcing you to look at him. "Say it properly."

You cleared your throat, trying to make your voice strong. "Yes, Sir, it does."

He let his hand go slowly, ensuring your eyes stayed on him. "Do you want to wear it?"

The way your face changed was enough to let him know the answer, but you told him anyway. "Yes, please." Spencer hummed.

"See, I know you do. I know how bad you wish you could wear it, but I don't know if you deserve it. Good girls get rewarded, Bambi, and I can hardly call you that right now."

A look of guilt that passed over your face, and you tried to stop it before it could be recognized. However, you were foolish to try and hide from Spencer. You'd never be able to conceal even the most minute of expressions before his brain picked them apart, and any secrecy you had along with it.

"Tell me, why do you deserve it, why should I give this to you? The way it looks to me is that you're just a weak, pathetic little girl who wants forgiveness when she hasn't earned any."

"Please, I just want to wear it for you," you begged. "I'm sorry I didn't listen before, but I'll be better, I'll be good. Let me wear it and I'll show you how good I can behave, _please_."

Spencer swallowed, his tongue running over his lip so briefly that you could have missed it. But then he accepted your apology, stepping closer to you so that your toes almost touched his shoes. He turned the collar over in his hands and positioned the band on your neck. His skilled fingers brushed your neck as he secured the buckle, causing the hairs on your neck to tingle.

Once it was fastened, he slipped a finger behind the band, tugging it so that you were forced to step forword to regain your balance.

"Don't feel too proud. You're going to be a crying little slut when I'm done with you."

You wouldn't make him regret giving you this, not even at the cost of your own dignity, if it meant that Spencer was satisfied. He tucked a lock of your hair behind your, but his affection was short-lived.

"You want to make me happy, Sweetheart?"

You nodded earnestly at him. "I'll do anything, Sir."

"Then get down on the floor, and prove you belong to me."

Without reservation you lowered yourself down, sitting on your heels as he'd taught you.

"No, you're not waiting for anything this time. I want you to crawl for me, and maybe then it'll sink in that you're mine. Don't stop until I tell you, is that clear?"

You felt the heat rise up to your cheeks. Crawling around on the floor like his pet had to be one of the most demeaning ways to get punished. You let the reality of it sink in while Spencer stared down at you, waiting. Shifting your weight forwards, you lengthened your back until you were on all fours.

Spencer squatted down so that he could be at eye level with you. One of his hands reached out for your neck, tugging on the collar. "Good girl," he praised, his voice soft. He straightened up again, keeping his gaze on your face. "Come."

And then he turned, walking to the kitchen at a swift pace - one that you couldn't keep up with. The hardwood floor pressed into your kneecaps with each movement forwards, and it quickly became uncomfortable. By the time you caught up with him he was already at the sink filling two glasses with water. He moved to grab a bag of trail mix from the counter and poured it into a dish.

You pathetically followed behind him while he carried the two glasses into the living room, setting them both on his coffee table amidst the clutter of books and a half-cleared chessboard. The table was nearly level with your back, allowing you to clearly read the withered spines of his novels. _Instituito Oratoria, The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich._ Most of the titles on his table you didn't recognize. You could only tell that his books were well used, their corners dog-eared and the paper flaking on the covers.

One of them, however, stood out to you. This one wasn't aged like the rest of them; it's cover was bright and eye-catching. _Radical Self-Forgiveness_ it was called. Spencer had a vast collection of books, but this one had was brand new, and your eyes gravitated to it. When he noticed the object of your attention, he scooped the stack of books away, clearing out a portion of the table, and set the pile of books on a table by the wall. You averted your eyes back down to the floor. 

Spencer Reid didn't seem like the type to be interested self-help books, or to be so embarrassed about it. But you pushed whatever the issue was over you seeing the book out of your head. Now wasn't the time, and he clearly was uncomfortable about it.

Spencer returned to the living room with the snack bowl and sat down on the couch with it in his lap. He legs were spread out and leaned into the back of the sofa, stretching an arm out beside him. "I'd tell you to come sit with me, but I think you're fine where you are."

Never had you felt more ignored than you did in that moment. The sour feeling of inadequacy ran through your veins, no matter how irrational it was. This way just play. But coupled with the amount of anxiety you felt over how mad Spencer was, you want to disappear into the floor.

As he sat on the couch eating, you remained on next to table on all fours. Your body was angled towards him, but you couldn't see him properly with your head down. Your wrists were sore from supporting you, but you had no choice. You _would_ endure it, because Spencer wanted you to.

When your arms were so tired that you had to pick one up to take turns supporting yourself, Spencer decided that you deserved a break. Or at least that's what you thought.

"Alright, I think it's time for you to join me now."

You crawled over to the couch, climbing up next to him. As you were about to sit down, he grabbed your hips, keeping your back exposed to him. Spencer made a noise of objection, "stay like that for me." His fingers slipped into the ring on your neck, and he urged you across his lap, so you were on your hands and knees above him.

He brushed your hair away from the sides of your face so he could see you better. Your arms felt weak as his fingertips trailed down your back, sending tingles through your body. His hand came to rest on your ass, where he drew a small circle over the skin there.

Relieved to feel this sort of attention from him, you couldn't help but push your hips back into his palm. "God, you're already acting like a desperate slut and I've barely begun to punish you." Your breath caught. If he was only getting started, you had more to worry about than you'd thought.

Spencer rubbed your ass again, using his other hand to press into your belly, keeping you in place above him. When his hand found the apex of your thighs, you cried out, trying to jerk your hips away from him. His fingers slid across your entrance, feeling how wet you were. "Jesus," he spat, "did you miss me this much?" All you could do was hum in response. He dragged his hand back up your ass, squeezing your other cheek. "I'm going to give you five, and you're not going to make a sound unless it's to count."

That you could do. Five wasn't very many, and it would probably turn you on more than it would bother you.

"Tell me you understand."

"I understand. Sir." Just as the words left your mouth, you felt his hand leave your ass. Your breaths were shallow, and you prepared yourself for when it would make contact. Spencer could feel the muscles in your belly tense while you grew anxious.

Suddenly his hand made connected with your ass, causing you to jolt forward. You bit back a gasp. Spencer's hand was there to catch you, keeping you stable. "One," you said, keeping your voice even. The smack was harder than you expected.

His hand rubbed the cheek he had just assaulted, soothing the skin. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn't turn to meet his gaze. Deciding you were ready for the next one, he drew his hand back.

This one was delivered faster than the first. Again, it stung, lighting a fire underneath his palm. He'd chosen to slap the same cheek too, and you made an effort not to let it show on your face. "Two."

As before, Spencer's hand caressed the stinging skin. When he hit you the third time, you exhaled loudly, showing Spencer the effect this was having on you. You counted and felt the thumb on your belly encouraging you to take it. "That's it, you're doing good, Sweetheart" 

The fourth smack hit you harder than the previous ones. You lurched forward again, bracing yourself with your hands, counting for him. He hit you in the same spot as the first two, and you knew your skin would be pink if you could see it. The hand on your belly wandered down to your folds, and you jumped again, pressing your thighs together. "You _like_ this."

The amount of arousal that had pooled between your lips was obvious. Spencer's finger teased your entrance and you whimpered, trying to wiggle away from him. His hand disappeared from your centre at the sound, and you cursed at yourself for not being able to stay quiet.

When it came back to hold your belly, you felt his fingers dragging the wetness across your skin. The hand that was still resting on your ass left its position. Immediately it came back down, causing you to cry out from the sting. "Five," your voice wavered, and Spencer worked to ease the bite out of your skin.

"There," he murmured once he was done. "You know, judging from how wet you are, you should consider that the only favour you're going to get tonight."

He cemented his words by bringing his hand back in-between your folds, gathering all of the arousal he could, and dragging his wet fingers over your red cheeks. "Don't worry though, I'm not done with you yet. I promised you'd be a mess when I was done with you, and you will be, Bambi." 

The hand on your belly made its way up between the valley of your breasts, going straight to your neck. His fingers wrapped around your neck, but he never tightened them. He just let them sit there, enjoying the way your breathing had noticeably increased. You tilted your head back, showing him you trusted him. That you were completely his right now.

Spencer tugged on your collar, "Come with me," he said, adjusting you so that he could stand up from the couch. When you swung your legs to the floor and stepped after him, he stopped you.

"On the floor. You're still making it up to me." He turned around and didn't bother to check if you were following.

Your heart sank.

lowering yourself to the floor, you crawled in his direction. Once you made it to his bedroom, you peered in, and sure enough he was there waiting for you. Sitting on the edge of his bed with his hands clasped and resting on his knees, he called you in. "Get up."

You scrambled to your feet at the order, coming over to stand in front of him. A quick glance at your knees revealed red, indented skin. Much like the first time you played together, you found yourself standing between his thighs. When you looked at his face, the harsh personality was gone. "Check in with me?" He murmured.

You stared into his eyes, seeing the concern there. "I'm green," you spoke softly, letting the sincerity seep through. You saw the relief in Spencer's subtle nod.

And then the gentle atmosphere was broken just as quickly as it had been created. He stood up, quickly turning the two of you around so that you stood in the same spot he'd just been. Spencer towered over you, bending down so that he could properly support your thighs, picking you up and pushing you back onto the mattress.

"I've been waiting a week to fuck you, Y/N. A week," he growled. "And you're going to take what I give you."

You moaned, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Spencer climbed on top of you, and you could see the early stages of an erection in his pants. While one of his hands supported his body, the other reached down between your legs, pushing two fingers into you without warning. You yelped, missing the way his slender fingers filled you.

"Yeah? You missed that too, Sweetheart?" He mocked. "You wanted to act like a whore, and now you're going to get treated like one." He pushed them to the hilt, bending them so that they pressed against your upper wall.

" _Shit_ ," you cried out.

That spurred him on, and he set a solid rhythm, thrusting them in and out. You moved your legs, trying to angle them in a way that would create more friction, but Spencer wouldn't have it.

"I said you'll take what I give you."

From then on, every time he pressed his fingers into you, he let the heel of his hand meet your clit. The first time he did it you whimpered, lifting your hips up, but he held them down. The heel of his hand was against you was enough to drive you crazy, always wanting more than he would give.

You glanced up at his face to find him watching you intently, eyes dark and possessive. Another moan slipped from your lips, causing Spencer to join in with one of his own. He curled his fingers again when they were deep inside you and beckoned you closer, earning a mewl from you. You arched your back, burying the top of your head into the sheets. Spencer continued to play with your entrance, creating more tension inside of you, until he withdrew his hand from you.

You opened your eyes, wondering why he'd stopped. Bringing himself lower over your body, he brought those two fingers to your lips for you to taste. Greedily, you accepted them, feeling him press them against your tongue. You closed your lips around them, bringing your head up to take more of him, and then sucked your way down to his fingertips. When you went to do it again, he pulled his hand from your mouth, putting his fingers into his own mouth instead.

You watched him do exactly what you had done; sink his lips down as far as he could, and then erotically he tilted his head back, sucking until his fingers were free from his mouth. When they were clean, he shoved the same two fingers back into you. 

They glided in with ease, and this time when he began pumping them, he set an aggressive pace using his thumb to rub circles around your clit. You whined again, feeling lost in the bliss of his ministrations. Spencer kept at it, and you began to feel the orgasm grew inside of you. His thumb rubbed harder, sending the wave faster to your core. You walls throbbed around his fingers, letting him know you were close.

Your moans were coming out higher now, and in quick succession. Just when you saw the finish line, Spencer pulled his fingers from you.

An annoyed whine tore its way out of your throat, and you sat up to look at him, angry at the denial.

"I- That felt so good, I don't want you to stop," you protested.

"I'm sorry, Bambi," he mocked. "Maybe if you ask nicely I'll put them back."

You spread your legs apart, "Please? Can you put them back?"

He met your doe eyes, seeing the crease above your eyebrows. And then his eyes wandered down your body to your core. "Okay, baby. Just for you."

When he slipped his fingers inside you again, you gripped him immediately, your walls hugging his fingers, encouraging them to start moving inside of you.

He set same aggressive pace as earlier, and your body curled around him. Spencer's palm nudged the small bundle of nerves when he pumped his hand, and you felt yourself return to the same space of pleasure that had been taken away from you moments before.

"You're a little slut for me, you know that?" He grunted the words out, working his hand ruthlessly to bring you back to the edge.

Your breaths were heavy, and another whimper left your lips as you sought out your orgasm. Your back arched again, sending your head into the mattress. His fingers curled inside of you, and when your breath caught in your throat, when the tension inside of you felt like it would snap, Spencer ripped his hand away.

A strangled groan filled the space between you. "Spencer!" You protested.

He hovered inches above your face. "Don't call me that."

Your chest heaved, "I'm sorry, Sir," you corrected yourself while your body yearned for release.

Spencer's hands trapped your neck, and he just used the position to gain your focus.

"No, I don't want you to call me that, either." He whispered.

"What do you want?" Your brows furrowed.

Spencer dipped his forehead so that it almost touched yours. His hot breath hit your skin when he spoke. "Call me Daddy, Y/N."

Your mouth dropped open a crack. "You want me to?" The way he asked caused your walls to clench. You were already more than willing, but a part of you didn't think Spencer liked it as much as when you called him Sir. And if he'd used the name on himself in the past, it was to feed into your fantasy.

" _Fuck_ , Y/N, do you know how fucking hard it makes me? You look so innocent, and then you start calling me Daddy, and all I want to do is hold you down while I ruin you. Do you know how corrupted that makes me feel? And god, I want that so bad."

The more he spoke, the more excited you got. "Then do it, Daddy," you dared him.

Spencer groaned, crawling off of you. He pulled on your calves, sliding you so that your centre was on the edge of the bed. He got down on his knees, pushing your thighs apart, opening up your wet folds to him.

With his head between your thighs, he gazed up at your face, catching your eyes with his, wordlessly telling you what was about to happen. When his mouth wrapped around your clit, you whimpered. Your hands found his hair, tugging him tighter against you.

Right away, he used one hand to disentangle your fingers from his hair, trapping both of your wrists beneath his hand so that he could hold them down against your belly.

Once he was sure you wouldn't be able to escape, his lips returned to where you wanted him most. Your legs twitched when his tongue licked a flat stripe up pussy. His other hand planted itself on the side of your vulva, where his thumb would be able to work at your clit.

Spencer's mouth sucked at your lips, while his thumb began to rub patterns over the sensitive nub. You fell back into bliss, when he flicked his tongue over the bundle of nerves, and then he closed his lips around it, sucking gently. It sent you soaring into euphoria, your back arching as the muscles inside of you tightened.

Moaning when he picked up his pace, you felt his head nod vigorously over your core. On occasion his nose would brush against the peak where your lips joined, and your legs would clamp tighter around him.

His thumb worked in tandem with his tongue, and you couldn't stop the curses that came out of your mouth.

The tension crept back into your belly, growing stronger with every lick of Spencer's tongue. Your thighs squeezed his head, holding him in place, for fear he would stop. You didn't want him to go anywhere, and you didn't want him to slow down.

When his tongue dipped into you, it pushed towards the finish line. Your thighs gripped him tighter, and your hips jerked into his face. The licking and swirling stopped. You wanted to yell at him.

"Please, Daddy," you cried, "please, I just want to cum so bad, I can't take it!"

Spencer let your wrists go and used both hands to pry your knees apart so that he could come away from your sex.

The frustration in your thoughts caught up to your body quickly, and you feebly choked back a sob of desperation. "Please," you cried, feeling your eyes well up. The tears threatened to spill over when Spencer got up, hovering over your miserable body so that he could see your face.

He smirked at you. "You just keep wanting more and more," he spat. His hands traced their way up to fondle your breasts. "But I'm still not convinced you've made it up to me, Bambi."

You squeezed your eyes shut, whining at his answer. When you opened them, your tears leaked out, coating your eyelashes and making it hard to see. You blinked them away.

The pads of Spencer's thumbs tenderly swiped them off of your cheeks. "Once more. Can you do that for me?" he murmured. "Take one more, baby." His eyes searched your teary ones. "Or you can say the word and we stop; I won't be angry."

It would break you and you would hate it, but you felt like you could do it one more time for him.

"No, we can keep going," you croaked.

"It's only fun if you're having fun, Y/N. I mean it, punishment or not, we can stop." 

"No, I meant it, I can do it," you told him, feeling the hot tears roll over the sides of your face.

"Okay." Spencer reached into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a small black box. He held it up to show you. "This," he opened the lid and tilted it so that you could see the thing inside from where you were laying, "is brand new." Inside the box was a small bullet vibrator. "Is that okay?"

"Green," you told him, earning a smile from him. You sniffled, wiping the tears away.

"Alright." He neared the bed again, and you widened your legs so that he could easily maneuver the toy inside of you. "You're doing so good."

Before he turned it on, he looked at your face. You nodded at him. Spencer clicked it on the lowest setting.

Right away, you succumbed to the low vibrations, moaning as they sent waves of pleasure through you. Spencer climbed over your body, his hands fondling your breasts, while he stroked his thumbs across your nipples. You leaned into his touch, arching your back to bring your chest closer to him. Soft whimpers spilled out of you.

He turned the vibrator to the next setting, and you trembled, your walls tightening around the toy. "Oh!" The feeling in your core escalated. It wasn't going to take long, not after all of the edging. His fingers pinched your nipple and you yelled. Your toes curled as the sensation reached its breaking point, your breath raspy and broken. 

Before you could cross the edge, Spencer switched off the vibrator. You protested, giving him an agonized cry as the pent-up frustration reached an all-time high. Before you could stop them, the tears returned in full force, rolling down your cheeks.

A sob tore out of your chest, and you let yourself sulk in misery. "Please let me cum, Daddy," you sobbed. You didn't deserve it, but you wanted it _so bad._ It didn't matter how pathetic you looked, begging to cum beneath him.

"Tell me why I should let you cum," he demanded.

" _Because!_ " It was the best excuse you could offer. You were sick of the edging, sick of the teasing. You tasted your tears as they hit the corners of your lips. Choking on another sob, your body shook as it tried to contain the outburst of emotions inside of you.

"How about you use that drooly little mouth of yours to suck me off while I think about it."

You sniffled, pressing your hands into the bed so that you could sit up. Spencer's arms wrapped around your shoulders, helping you to the edge of the bed. "O-okay," you choked out. You wiped the back of your hand across your eyes, drying the tears there. If you were good to him, he'd let you cum.

Your chest heaved while Spencer unzipped his trousers, and your breath was shaky as you tried to compose yourself enough to please him.

Spencer pulled his pants down just enough to give you access to the front of his boxers. The bulge in his underwear was thick, tenting the thin cotton fabric. Precum had already seeped out, wetting his boxers.

You were still swallowing tears when your hand reached for him, taking his length into your hands. You stroked him once, letting your thumb swipe over the tip.

" _Shit_ ," he swore, " _fuck!_ Don't bother trying to tease me. Act like the slut I know you are and put your fucking mouth around it."

"Okay," you trembled, "I'm sorry." You pulled him out of his boxers. His hard, swollen erection looked like it would burst. The precum dripped down his shaft, and you brought your lips to his tip, your tongue licking over the head. His hands tangled themselves in your hair, holding your head exactly how he wanted you. You had to widen your jaw so that you could take him into your mouth quickly, as he pushed your head onto his length. 

The head of his cock dragged across your tongue, and you felt each one of the veins on his shaft as he thrust into you. There wasn't room to ease him in. Spencer's hips jerked forward making you gag when he hit the back of your throat. He slammed his way into you, and the tears pricked at your eyes.

You slackened your jaw, giving him the space to control the thrusts he wanted. The saltiness of him coated your tongue as it stroked the underside of his cock with each thrush. Drool was spilling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin. You were a mess of spit and tears; putty in Spencer's hands to use how he saw fit.

He moaned, his cock nearly down your throat, while the tears leaked from your eyes as he fucked your mouth.

" _Fucking make it_ ," he groaned, " _up to me!_ " The words were broken with each thrust. His member twitched inside of you, signalling his climax was close by. Your cheeks were wet, and his assault on your mouth was relentless. When you lifted your eyes to look up at him, his head was thrown back in ecstasy. His hands in your hair helped slam him into you, gagging at his brutal thrusts.

Spencer looked down to meet your eyes then. " _Oh, shit,_ " he groaned, "you know how good you look with Daddy's cock down your throat?" You answered him with a moan of your own, but it was muffled. The vibrations pushed him closer. " _Jesus, y_ ou feel so fucking good around me."

You felt his cock twitch again seconds later, he buried himself deep inside of your mouth. His release shot down your throat, hot and salty. You could smell the muskiness of him. 

Spencer caught his breath, pulling his length out of you before you had the chance to suck him off completely. A few strings of spit and semen dripped down his shaft. "Lick it up," he ordered, enunciating each word. "Let me see you do it."

Your face was an ugly mess of tear stains and drool, and you looked up at him. The fire was still burning in his eyes. Bringing your lips to the base of him, your tongue darted out, slowly caressing his shaft until you reached the head. You opened your mouth sinking back down onto him, well aware of how sensitive he was. You sucked the mess off of him with as much care as you could manage in your scattered state. When you neared his head, he pulled you off of him, yelling out as it got to be too much.

"That's it," he praised, "That's my girl." His hands pulled your face against his belly, and you felt the strings break inside of you. As you choked out a sob, and more tears slipped from your eyes, you took comfort from the hands in your hair. With a shaky breath, you tried to blink them back, focusing on evening out your breathing instead.

"Hey," he cooed, "you did it, we're all done." He moved your face away just enough to wipe the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. 

A second wave of anguish hit you. "But-" you swallowed the tears that had hit your lips, "but what about-" You could barely speak clearly. You drew in a breath, trying to restore the oxygen in your lungs. "What about-" you tried again but your emotions got in the way.

Spencer knew what you were trying to say anyway. 

"I know," he soothed. "I know. Just not this time, Sweetheart." He crouched down to be at eye-level with you, and your hands moved to cover your face. "Hey," he tried again, "you don't have to hide." His hands gently found your wrists, encouraging you to look at him. When you finally took your hands away, Spencer could see the resentment on your face. 

"Why can't you let me cum?" You cried, feeling like an idiot. You knew why, but it didn't make it any easier to handle.

Spencer brought you close to him, his hands reaching underneath your legs to support you as he picked you up and held you against him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, rubbing a circle on your lower back. You felt him turn, and the gentle way his weight shifted from foot to foot as he carried you from his bedroom. 

You could tell you'd arrived at his bathroom when Spencer flicked on the light switch. He carefully set you on the counter, but your arms didn't want to leave him. 

"It's alright. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Just let me clean you up, okay?" He cooed. You let go of his shirt so that he could grab a washcloth. The sound of the faucet being turned on gave you something to focus on. Your face was still a mess, and you felt sticky between your thighs. Slumping against the wall behind you, you shut your eyes while waiting for Spencer.

After a few moments you felt his hand rub your upper arm. You opened your eyes a crack, seeing Spencer's concerned smile. Raising the corners of your lips a fraction, he took it as a sign you were doing okay. He brought the cloth up to your cheeks, and the hot water immediately brought you comfort. You took it from him, preferring to wipe your own face.

Once you were done, you handed him back the cloth and his hand went to your centre, wiping away the dirty feeling there. He rinsed the cloth, cleaning off anywhere he'd missed, and then you felt his hands at the back of your neck, undoing the collar. You heard the metal hardware hit the countertop, and then Spencer was picking you up again, carrying you back to his room.

Sitting on his bed with you wrapped around him, he worked at the lid of aloe. "Can you stay like that for a second?" You hummed, nodding your head into his shoulder. 

The cool gel was spread over your cheeks with care, Spencer's hands never staying in one place too long. When he was done, he secured the lid and then stood up and turned you around, laying you on his bed. "Still with me, Bambi?" He murmured. 

"Yeah, I'm still here," you murmured. Your eyes stayed shut, as you felt the pull of sleep beckon you closer. The cotton fabric of a t-shirt touched your body, and you recognized it as Spencer helping you into your clothes. You tried to cooperate to make it easier for him, but you just felt tired. 

"Why don't you stay here tonight, you're almost asleep as it is. I'll take the couch," he spoke softly, and you felt him place a blanket around you. You were too sleepy to speak, and just hummed in a noise of agreement.

The lamp on the table next to you was shut off, and you heard Spencer's footsteps retreat from the room as you let sleep consume you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps :) How are you all? I hope you're hanging in there. If it's been rough remember that things will get better, even if it seems unattainable right now. You can do it! Thanks for sticking around for another chapter of this madness. As always, I love you sincerely.
> 
> babyleaf


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